


The Dragon in the Wall

by Mizu_umi



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Badass Arya, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Post-Canon, R plus L equals J
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 05:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 31
Words: 191,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2638961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizu_umi/pseuds/Mizu_umi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The dragon has three heads." That's what the prophecy says.</p><p>One is at Meeren, the second at Storm's End, the third... is a blue flower growing from a chink in a wall of ice, filling the air with sweetness. And the third head has to fulfil its destiny.</p><p> IMPORTANT NOTE: this story is not finished, but is not completely abandoned either. It is in process of rewriting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfic; something that has been inside my head for some time now, I hope some of you can enjoy it. It contains references from ADWD and a bit from TWOW; it also considers the theory L+R=J to be true and Young Griff to be the real Aegon. The timing and geography may be a little messy; if you find something extremely wrong, please leave a comment so I can correct it. 
> 
> English is not my native language, there might be some grammatical mistakes as well but it was too weird for me to write in Spanish, so here we are. 
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing from the series A song of ice and fire or its universe; all the characters, names, places, etc belong only to George R.R. Martin, I did this just for fun and will never compare to him.

 

 

 

 

The cold was inside him; he could feel it filling his insides and, even his mind. He was lost in the middle of cold and darkness, an infinite darkness. He stretched his hand to find something to grasp, but he couldn't find anything and, he was falling deeper and deeper into the cold, the silence and the darkness. He saw snow; he was surrounded by snow, then he heard the shouting voices and the steel song.

 

There was a fight taking place. He must go. However, he wasn't able to move a single muscle. He looked for Longclaw, but he couldn´t find it. He called Ghost and, received no answer.

 

 _I am dead._ And the darkness surrounded him completely.

 

 _“Kill the boy and bring the man.”_ A voice he knew a long time ago told him.

 

_“Well, the boy has died, but the man won´t come. I'd like to die in peace.”_

 

_“No, you can´t. You must fight. Winter is coming.”_

 

_“Bran? I can´t, those are not my words. I am not a Stark.”_

_“No, you are not a Stark,”_ the voice that sounded like Bran carried a great sadness _“But you can save us.”_

 

_“Save who?”_

 

 _“Fight,”_ and the silence came again.

 

He saw Winterfell and the godswood; there was someone running and laughing there. He ran as fast as he could, by the time he got to the pond, in front of the heart tree, he saw her.

 

“Arya! You are back and safe,” he shouted; the girl didn´t hear him, but she smiled and, he felt an unbearable sadness in his chest. The girl ran away; she ran away but  returned just that she wasn´t a little girl anymore; she was older and more beautiful. She was wearing a dark cloak and, she wasn't smiling anymore. She kneeled in front of the heart tree and prayed. A man in a white armor approached the girl and  whispered something to her. She left with him but didn't return this time. The only thing that remained of her was the scent of the winter roses, sweet and sad.

 

He saw Arya again; she was with Sansa and, they were leaving with the King. She was smiling and waving at him. The Royal procession started to move, but he couldn't follow it.

_“Arya, Arya. Don’t go, don´t let them marry you to that monster,”_ he was desperate to reach her.

 

 _“I’ll stick them with the pointy end,”_ She said before disappearing in the road.

 

_“Arya!”_

 

 _“Wake up. If you want to see her again, wake up and fight. Fight for her.”_ This voice was new; it came from a woman, but he didn´t recognize it. It was different from his little sister´s voice; it came from a distant place.

 

_“Who are you?”_

_‘You know nothing, Jon Snow.’_

 

He was on the top of the Wall and the Others were approaching by hundreds and thousands. He shouted orders to the men from the Nigth's Watch, but no one answered. They were closer and, no one was there to stop them. He turned around looking for help and, he found Robb with snow on his head and, his cold blue icy eyes were full of hate. Robb surrounded his throat with his hands; they were colder than the winter. He was pushing him to the edge of the Wall.

 

 _“Wait, I will fall. We need to stop them.”_ Robb produced a sound that could have been a laugh.

 

 _“Traitor, you abandoned me and let them kill me.”_ He couldn´t answer; he was falling, the cold air was cutting his face. He stopped before reaching the bottom of the Wall. He was floating; the cold was gone and, there weren't Walkers approaching anymore. He suddenly realized everything was on fire. The Wall was melting and, the castles, the people, and the forest were on fire, soon they would all become ashes.

 

_“No.”_

 

 _“Let him be the King of bones and ashes. His is the Song of Ice and Fire.”_ It was Bran again. He was still floating and, he now realized why. He was riding a green dragon and, it was flying over the Wall.

 

 _“Stop. Don’t burn everything.”_ Then, he noticed two figures coming for him. There were two other dragons and, they were getting closer. When he was face to face with the dragons they threw fire at him and, he was burning. Now he could only feel the heat.

 

He shouted; he was burning. The heat was unbearable and, he felt as if he was melting from the inside.

 

He sat and noticed he didn’t have clothes on him but was covered in furs. The place was dark, only a dim light allowed him to perceive the shadows. He was panting, sweating and, his head hurt, but he tried to stand up.

 

“Don´t. You are too weak, must rest.” It was the woman's voice he hadn't recognized. A cold hand came out from the darkness and pressed him down to rest on the furs once more. The hand was cold and full of cayuse, but the touch was somewhat soothing.

 

“Val?” he asked.

 

“No, she is not here. Drink this, it will subdue the fever.” He did as she said. “Well done, now lay down; you need the rest.” It was dark so he could not see her face, but he had the feeling she was staring at him. He slept a lot; he could not figure out how much time but he knew it had been a long time. However, this time, the nightmares didn´t come. He woke because of an annoying noise he knew too well.

 

“Neck, neck. Corn. Snow, Jon Snow. Corn.” It was that fucking bird again. His mind was clearer this time and, he remembered what happened, the betrayal. He sat and searched for the scars with his fingers; they were there, it had been real. He turned to a noise. A woman was smashing something near him. She threw it into a pot with hot water and served some of the mixture in a bowl, then offered it to him. He looked at the thing suspiciously.

 

“What is this?”

 

“It is for the fever and, to give you strength.” He doubted again and she sighed. “If I wanted you dead I wouldn’t have been taking care of you.”

 

“Sorry. I just remembered what happened so I became suspicious.” She put her hand on his forehead while he drank the contents of the bowl, it was bitter.

 

“A horrible thing, indeed. They really wanted you dead because they followed us nearly a week, luckily the cold made them retreat. Your fever is gone. Do you want something to eat?”

 

She asked as if they hadn't been speaking of murder attempt a while before. He realized he was hungry. When he nodded she gave him a bowl of berries and some cheese, there was hard bread as well.

 

“I know is not too much but with you unconscious I wasn´t able to go hunting but there will be meat when Ghost comes back.” He was surprised.

 

_How in the seven hells does she know my dire wolf’s name? And he is hunting for her no less._

 

“You know, I am grateful you saved me and took care of me, but I would like you to tell me who are you and where we are.” He sounded rougher than he intended.

 

“Ah, right. My name is Cyara and I come from beyond the Wall, the three-eyed raven sent me to protect you and, we are currently in the Clan Mountains, traveling south.” Now Jon was positively confused. He decided to go in order.

 

“You are a wildling? I mean… from the free folk?”

 

“Well, I'm not properly a wildling but I have been living north of the Wall for a while now; working at the service of the three-eyed raven.”

 

“And that bird is…” He regarded the noisy bug that, apparently, had followed him from the Watch. She laughed and, strangely, he felt the urge to laugh with her.

 

“No, I'm not talking about that nuisance. You could say he is a Northern god or something. He watches over those who believe in the Old gods through the weirwoods and other means.” That sounded like something Old Nan would tell to Bran before he went to sleep. Thinking of Bran made him feel down.

 

“Okay, let’s pretend for a second that I believe you were sent by the gods to protect me. Why would they want to protect me?”

 

“Because you are the prince that was promised.” She said firmly without a trace of hesitation.

 

 _Now she is talking like Melissandre. I can´t deal with this anymore; I don't want to get involved with magic or those other things._ She must have read his thoughts because she added:

 

“The Red Priestess is crazy and terribly wrong. She wanted to burn you alive after you were stabbed.” A shiver made its way through his spine.

_That crazy woman._ Thank goodness she saved me from her.

 

“Thank you, again. Why would you think I am the Promised Prince?” He tried not to sound teasing, but it was ridiculous.

 

“I don't believe anything, but if you want a reason, I guess that would be you are made of ice and fire. At least, that's what the raven told me.” If there was any truth in that statement, the ice clearly came from his Stark blood but the fire was a mystery.

 

_Am I really going to consider this? He thought of the possibilities. She might tell me who my mother was and if the prophecies are true I might find a way to defend the Wall._

 

“My mother was the fire?” He felt stupid when he asked.

 

“That is… you should wait until we reach the Neck. I don't know the full story, but Howland Reed will answer your questions.”

_She won’t tell me another word. The Neck?_

 

“I can’t keep going south and, I can’t talk to Lord Reed, I must return to the Watch.”

 

“You can´t do that; there is nothing left for you there. The free folk are fighting with the Watch and the Lannisters had sent men to the Wall. You will get killed.” She looked horrified.

 

“I made an oath and, I can´t leave the Wall just to protect myself.”

 

“You can't help there. They killed you, so you are free from your oath.”

 

“I am alive and I won´t break my oath.” He was shouting.

 

“You have no power there anymore. The have chosen a new Lord Commander with Lannister support and, they will finish you as soon as they see your face. I am supposed to protect you, but I can´t fight a thousand men.”

 

“As if you could fight at all.” His anger spoke instead of him. She stood up.

 

“Because I am a woman?"  She asked sarcastically, but her tone sounded very calm."I went through twenty men to get you out of that place.” She reminded him of Arya and that made him calm down.

 

“What do you suggest then?”

 

“I am not saying we won´t fight the Others, just that there are other ways to do that. We will travel south to Storm's End to find this other way.”

 

“Another way you say... Do they have spare valyrian steel swords there?” He was incredulous.

 

“No, something better.” Her eyes almost shined. Only then he realized her eyes were the color of the sea and just as the sea they shifted from stormy green when she was upset to the clear coral reef water when she was calm. For a moment, he was about to drown in the sea that were her eyes.

 

“What could be better?”

 

“Fire made flesh. Dragons.” The last word made him feel dizzy and he remembered his dream.

 

 _It can´t be true_. He had the sensation he was getting closer to the fate the dream had shown him. He couldn´t breathe.

 

“I need some air.” He stood up and motioned to the entrance of what he  now knew was a cave. She held his arm. “Let go of me.” She wasn´t looking at him.

 

“You can go out but put something on first or your fever will come back.” She said nonchalantly. Jon blushed fiercely, meeting this woman was getting worse every second. She noticed he was ashamed because she laughed at him and, despite the embarrassment, for the first time since he became Lord Commander, he allowed himself to laugh like the boy he still was.

 

At some point, silent as ever, Ghost came back, he had managed to get two squirrels and Jon was grateful for the meat. He remembered he had eaten squirrel when he was going to the Wall. That had been s a lifetime ago; a time when all his siblings were alive. Suddenly he remembered his little sister; he couldn't go to the Neck, not yet.

 

“We have to go to Winterfell first, to rescue Arya.” She raised her head from whatever she was doing and scowled.

 

“It would be a waste of time; she is not there.”

 

“How would you know, did the raven told you?”  He spat; for some reason he was being rough with her and he felt bad but she didn't seem to care.

 

“Yes, he told me but I doubled checked before going for you and, she wasn´t there.” His anger was up again; somehow since he awoke his temper had changed, it had become more explosive.

 

“You don’t even know her and, she might still be there with that monster!” He felt warm again.

 

“I do know her; the raven showed her to me in a dream. Ramsay Bolton is dead by the way. Stannis Baratheon holds Winterfell now.” He gaped at her.

 

“How long did I sleep?” She calculated the time.

 

“Around a moon.” She always managed to maintain her calm demeanor while saying stunning things, that irritated him.

 

“What?! This is crazy. What about the Others?!”

 

“They are taking their time, I guess.” She shrugged.

 

“Aren´t you worry about them?”

 

“As we are now, they would kill us in a week, so I won´t ponder over it until we have a chance to turn the tides. And right now, I can´t take my eyes off of you.” He blushed, but her face kept a stony expression.

 

“I didn´t mean it that way. You are still weak and I have to keep you safe, that is what I meant.”

 

“Would you keep her safe as well?”

 

“If she were here I would. But I swear on my life that she is not at Winterfell.” Her tone was earnest.

 

After a long discussion, he agreed to leave Arya’s issue aside and meet Howland Reed. He decided he would make up his mind about the dragons after talking with the man. They left the next day.

 

Surprisingly, she had two good horses and some supplies so the journey wouldn´t be so severe. He asked her where he got them and, she confessed without shame that she had stolen them from the clans.  He realized she was well accustomed to long journeys in the middle of the falling snows; she had a good sense of orientation, was skilled at collecting food and hunting, detecting and avoiding potential dangers.

 

 _She is amazing; her skills put to shame the best of my rangers, maybe even uncle Benjen._ He made a pause. _They are not my rangers anymore, they tried to kill me and uncle Ben is no more._ He must have been looking at her back intensively because she felt him staring and looked back at him, holding his stare. For some unknown reason that made Jon feel embarrassed. He cursed and tried to avoid the shame he was feeling talking to her, trying to sound casual.

 

“You are really good at this, how did you develop these skills? You could be a Ranger from the Watch.”

 

“It´s nothing especial, half of the free folk are able to do the same; this has been an everyday circumstance for me since I was ten... I thought the Watch only accepted men.” Now they were riding side by side so he could see her face but it didn´t have a single shade of emotion.

 

“You are right but it was just a comment.” He felt stupid. “Since ten? How old are you?”

 

“Soon I will turn eight and ten.” She answered while scouting the near lands with her eyes.

 

She is not even a year older than me, but she seems to be so much wiser than I will ever be.

 

“You have traveled a lot for a seventeen-year-old girl. What about your family?” That produced a shift in her face; she tried to hide it by looking away from him, but he recognized she was uncomfortable. She didn´t answer. He contemplated her face a little longer and wondered how he had not perceived how beautiful she was until then. Their first encounter had been in the deep darkness of the cave, but they had been traveling together for six days now. It was as if she had been hiding her true self from him and only came out at the mention of her family.

 

_Maybe it is because the sadness has revealed something from her true self. Has she lost her family as well?_

 

“I haven´t seen my family since I got north of the Wall.” When she answered she had already put her emotions under control, so her voice and expression were the same they had ever been.

 

“Were they killed or something?” It was an impolite question, but his curiosity was growing each second.

 

“No, I have no idea whether they are dead or alive. Not even where they are or what they are doing.” That statement was strange.

 

“I don´t understand. Did you run away or were you stolen by a man?” She frowned deeply.

 

“I have already told you I am not a member of the free folk; I wasn´t even born among them.” There was a subtle anger in her voice, but it disappeared rather quickly. Then he remembered she said she had only lived there for the last seven years.

 

“Then where did you live before? And how did you end serving the three-eyed raven?” There was something inconsistent with her story. She breathed deeply and locked her eyes in the horizon.

 

“I don´t remember. I just appeared there as a ten-year-old girl; for all I know I could have been born from a tree.” She laughed loudly, but he noticed the laughter was full of bitterness.

 

 _She makes no sense. If she doesn´t remember who is she so sure she is not part of the free folk? She doesn't want to tell a thing about herself; is it such a bad thing to tell? Well, I myself want to remove some parts of my life._ He realized he had been pushy.

 

“I am sorry if I offended you but I think is unfair that you seem to know my whole life but you are not giving anything about yourself in exchange.” He wanted to know about her, so he expected his last words would soften her attitude towards him. It didn´t work, in fact, it made things worse.

 

“My life is completely irrelevant for you; me telling you about it will get us nowhere. I was sent to guide you and protect you, to give you advice, not to become your friend.” Her tone was cold.

 

“If we are going to be together for such a long time we could at least try to get along.” He felt so curious about her and her refusal only made the feeling grow.

 

“We won´t get along. We will only play our parts in the wheel of destiny and when you have accomplished your destiny I will get my freedom and disappear from your life for good.” It was like trying to speak with the winter itself. He analyzed her words and freedom popped out instantly.

 

“Are you being forced to do this? I didn't know. You can leave if you want, I won't stop you.”

 

“No, I can´t. I owe my life to the raven and I can't leave until you fulfill your destiny or I will be indebted forever.” There was something desperate encrusted in her eyes.

 

_I don´t understand a single thing. Was she separated from her family because of me? If that is so then she is right, we can't ever be friends because my mere existence keeps her trapped, so she could only hate me. He shouldn´t care, but he didn't want her to hate him. Damn raven, I have done nothing to deserve her hate._

 

 _‘You were born.’_ The cruel voice of Catelyn Stark whispered in his head. None of them said another word.

 

For fourteen long days, they didn´t speak to each other aside from the strictly necessary. She would hunt, collect food and then offer it to him, then keep guard until morning; she only slept three hours a day while Jon was awake and ghost was running in the woods exploring the road they would be traveling during the day but he knew it wasn´t a proper sleep since she always remained alert. Jon offered to help with the guards, but she didn´t even consider the suggestion.

 

“You can’t help. You are able to move, but you are still weak. You don´t need to bother about my health or anything else related to me.” He didn't push further since he had no intention of fighting again, but he kept worrying; there was no way a human could live that way for a long time without getting sick.

 

_Perhaps she is not human._

 

He started to watch her every move to detect any weakness and point it out to her, but he found none. Instead, he noticed that even if she made a great effort to hide them, she did have emotions but she kept them to herself. Most of them appeared to be anger, hate and frustration, but there were also longing and kindness; longing whenever she looked at the distant horizon, more likely remembering something; kindness was the strangest and she would only offer it to ghost. There wasn't happiness or excitement, even if she had laughed when they met, it had been completely false.

 

_Perhaps when this madness ends and we part from each other and this cursed destiny I will be able to see a bit of emotion coming from her if only a single time._

 

The day she finally spoke to him again the weather was clearer than usual. The cold remained, but it wasn't snowing. When he woke up she was already readying the horses for the ride. She sat to eat breakfast with him and informed that with that kind of weather they should be able to get to the Graywater's Watch around sunset. That was good news because just as she had said, he was weaker than he originally thought. He wouldn´t dare to complain but he got tired really fast and he slept more than he would like. Getting to the residence of the Reed household meant at least three days of proper rest and food and, the promise of the truth. He thought that would be all she would tell him that day but was proved wrong.

 

“I apologize.” She spat suddenly and Jon chocked.

 

“For what?” He cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand and she passed him a handkerchief giving him a frown. That action made him think of Sansa and her manners, but he set the memory aside.

 

_She definitely has nothing of wildling; no wildling would care for such trivial things as manners. He had to repress his smile to avoid her anger._

 

“The other day… I had no reason to be angry at you.” She had her eyes fixed on her food.

 

“The raven took your life away from you for my sake.” She raised her head and her eyes were wide open as she shook her head.

 

“You didn´t. You are not responsible for anything that has happened in my life and I won't hold you responsible for anything that happens from now on.”

 

“So you don´t hate me?” He blurted the question without a second thought and prepared for the rough response.

 

“I have no reason to.” She sighed. “You might be right; if we are meant to spend all this time together we could at least try to get along.”

 

“You were so angry when I asked about your life.” She frowned but kept calm.

 

“I don’t want to think about the past. It is a waste of time.” Her eyes became stormy and he thought she would cry but it didn't happen.

 

“You remember.” It hadn't been a question.

 

“I do.” She locked her gaze on his eyes, “Please don´t ask about the past.” Her voice was even, but her eyes were pleading.

 

“Can I ask about the present or the future instead?” The question surprised her. She considered it for a moment and gave her consent with a light nod. “What will you do when you recover your freedom?” Her eyes lost all the emotion immediately; the sea was frozen again.

 

“I will die.” She stated and left him there. He remained the rest of the journey wondering why in the world she would desire to recover her freedom so eagerly just to die right after that, but he couldn´t find a suitable answer.

_I know nothing._ He reminded himself. _Ygritte would have known._ For some reason, he was certain of it.

 

Sunset reached them when they were carefully sorting the swamp. She told him to stop his horse, he was about to question her but then he heard a voice without an owner.

 

“Identify yourselves.”

 

“We need to see Lord Howland Reed.” She answered as calm as ever.

 

“Who wants to see the lord?”

 

“I am Cyara; I bring him Jon Snow.” His name was all that was needed because the harsh voice immediately became friendlier.

 

“He has been waiting for you.” A little man came out from nowhere and they followed him without further question. It wasn't long before they arrived at the floating fortress of Greywaters. Some servants as short as the man who guided them took care of their horses and Ghost, strangely enough, they were the first people not to be afraid of the dire wolf even it was their first meeting and Ghost seemed to accept the strangers as well. They were conducted to small but comfortable rooms without a word. They were fed as well as provided with water for a bath and clean clothes, but no one utter a single word to them. He fell asleep until another short man knocked at his door.

 

“Follow me, please. Lord Reed will receive you now.” He noticed Cyara was in front the door of her own room and he was going to ask her if she would come as well but she read his mind, not for the first time.

 

“It will be better if it is just the two of you. After you hear what you came to hear and, have made up your mind about Storm´s End, we will speak.” She was wearing a soft expression almost as if she was offering him some sort of comfort.

 

Howland Reed was a slim short man with dark green eyes. When Jon entered the room the man regarded him with the saddest look he had ever received from anyone. There were no introductions. The man would explain in detail later but his first phrase was all that was needed to shatter Jon´s life into pieces with the weight of a truth he always wished to know but he would want to forget from that day on.

 

“You look just like your mother.” Jon couldn't say anything. He remained still as stone as the man told him the story of the Knight of the laughing tree during the tourney of Harrenhal, the Rebellion, the Tower of Joy and the prophecies. The man surely spoke for hours, but Jon had lost the ability to process his words. Howland Reed ended his story with a long tired sigh and told him he would answer whatever question he had when he was ready. Someone took him back to his room and left him there. He didn't want to speak to anyone, but he didn´t want to be alone either. In fact, he didn´t know what he wanted to do. He was wondering what to do when he realized he was not alone; Cyara had been watching through the window waiting for him. She turned to him as he walked to sit on the bed and she did the same.

 

None of them said a single word, there was something trapped inside his chest, something that he wasn´t able to identify and wouldn't allow him to breathe properly. With the most awkward of movements she hesitantly reached for him and surrounded him with her arms; he stiffened. He thought he was about to laugh at the strange scene they were performing but it was a cry that came out from his mouth instead; the cry was followed by another and one more after that, soon he was crying hard as she rubbed his back and stroked his hair with a tenderness he would have believed impossible coming from her.

 

As he strongly held to her, he cried for Lyanna Stark and her cruel fate, for the lives that were lost so that he could come to this world, for the undeserved hate he received from Catelyn Stark, for his lost siblings that were not his siblings, especially for Arya who was no longer his little sister. But he cried the most for Ned Stark, the man who betrayed his best friend and gave up his honor to protect his poor life, the one who endured the rage of his insulted wife; the man that did his best to raise him and love him as one of his own children. No matter what, Ned Stark would be the one he would ever recognize as his father.

 

After a while, his cries became quiet sobs but she would not release him; they remained like that until his tears stopped and sleep came to him.

 

The nightmares returned. He was Ghost; I wasn't a wolf´s dream though. He was running in the forest, kept running until he reached the Wall. He ran through the halls and buildings looking for someone; he had to warn them about the cold and the danger that was coming, but there was no one there. He knew the Others were getting closer, but he could not find a soul and no sound was produced from his mouth. He heard steps and when he turned he saw a few members of the Watch; all of them were armed with short slim swords. Needle. They stabbed him and he thought he would bleed to death but there was no blood just smoke; the smoke became fire, he was burning.

 

No, he was surrounded by fire but it was not burning him, the fire disappeared and he was still alive; he was no longer ghost but a dragon.

 

That was the end of the dream.

 

He awoke abruptly in his room with a sole candle as light source which was enough to notice that Cyara was sleeping in a chair next to his bed. Jon remembered the events of the last night and felt both ashamed and grateful for what she had done for him. She opened her eyes without warning and he looked away as fast as he could. He thought she would comment about the other night or ask him about his decision, but she didn´t say a word; just remained sat waiting for him to speak first.

 

“I haven´t made up my mind yet.” He said in an apologetic tone.

 

“I know.”

 

“I may need some time, don´t know how much.”

 

“I can wait.” She reached for something and gave him a soft fabric soaked in hot water, “for your eyes.” They were swollen because of the crying. He rested his back against the pillows and put the fabric over his eyes.

 

“I would like to be alone.” She gave him no answer, just stood and walked to the door. Before she left the room he managed to utter the words, “Thank you.” This time he fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

When he awoke the second time he was alone and that gave him a frustrating feeling; for some reason he was expecting to find her by his side like the first time.

 

He decided he should use his time alone to think about what he was going to do from now on. He had lost too much in such a short time; he was no longer a member of the Watch and he was no longer Ned Stark´s bastard son.

 

 _But I am still a bastard._ It was curious, the truth had stripped him of most of his entire identity but left intact the only thing he would have handed over willingly.

 

 _Does this mean it is no longer my responsibility to protect the Realm from the Others? It is not like I can go back to the Watch anyway. What should I do from now on then?_ He thought about the dragons. _Even if I am no longer myself, I could still do something for this world._

 

He asked to see Howland Reed once more. One of the many short men in the place conducted Jon to the Lord´s presence. It was only the second time they saw each other, but Jon had the feeling that the man was always sad for some reason; this time he was watching through the window. When the man noticed Jon in the room, he turned ad offered him another of his sad smiles and told him to sit with him at a nearby table.

 

“I came to thank you for telling me the truth and explaining everything, last time I was…” He wasn´t able to complete the sentence, even then he wasn´t sure what was that he was feeling.

 

“It is understandable for you to be confused and hurt. You don´t have to apologize for not being able to utter a word after what you heard.” The man responded in a calm tone so similar to the one she used, “So, do you have any questions you would want to ask?” Howland Reed stared directly at his eyes.

 

“Am I really the Prince that was promised? I have heard about the prophesy more than I would have liked and I don´t think it is me the person it talks about.” Ever since he heard about it from the Red Priest he had a bad feeling about that and discarded it as insanity but between the truth and the dreams he had been having, he wasn´t that sure now. Howland Reed had realized his doubts.

 

“Prophesies and green dreams are rare and difficult to interpret. A wrong interpretation might lead you to a dangerous position but in your case there are some things that support the fact that you are the prince. I know you don´t trust magic and prophesies and while I find that way of thinking wise, there are some things that we can´t ignore. Your parentage, the fact that it is you who has been preparing to protect the Wall from the Others attack…” He paused a moment. “I talked to the lady you are traveling with and she told me something interesting: ‘I thought I would not be able to save him, the injuries he received were too severe but when I was about to treat the first one it wasn't bleeding but smoking. The smoke had cauterized the injuries and all left for me to do was to take care of his fever.’ When dragons are injured, their injuries smoke.” Jon didn't know about that.

 

“I have been having dreams,” he confessed. “Dreams in which I become a dragon. Am I really transforming into a dragon? I don´t feel comfortable with that.”

 

“It isn't necessarily a physical transformation." Reed realized he hadn't understood a single thing. "Listen boy, you don´t have to be neither a dragon nor a prince but I believe you can save us because you care and you took this responsibility on your own accord when you became Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.” The man didn´t add anything else so Jon ventured another question.

 

“What do you know about the dragons at Storm's end?”

 

“I had no idea about that either. The raven has his ways of knowing things we don't. And he only shows what he believes convenient to show.” Jon had expected he could offer him further information regarding the dragons.

 

“I don't know what to do.” The words came out from his mouth without a second thought; Jon wanted advice and he was asking it from someone he barely knew.

 

“I don't know any better but be sure that we will aid you as much as we can. You are her son and she was a great friend of mine." He made a brief pause. "Rushing won't help you, take your time to decide.” There was nothing else to be said so Jon thanked him and left the room.

 

He wanted to see how Ghost was doing so he started to wander around the place but got lost almost immediately. He asked one of the short men to show him the way; the man nodded and Jon followed him. The inhabitants of the Greywater's Watch were all quiet but amiable and seemed to hold an undeserved respect towards Jon.

_Maybe because of Lyanna._ He could not bring himself to call her mother, not even in his mind; it was too recent.

 

The man showed him out of the main building and signaled to the dire wolf, then he bowed and quickly disappeared. Ghost was not alone; Cyara was with him caressing its fur. He walked towards them and sat the other side of the dire wolf, not sure of what to say. She might be waiting for his answer.

 

“Is it such a horrible thing? To be a Targaryen, I mean.” She said without looking at him.

 

“Have you ever felt as if you have been stripped of your entire identity and there's nothing left of who you were?”

 

“I think it is called emptiness and, yes I have felt it.” He was about to ask her about that but then, remembered their talk.

 

“Well that is how I feel and, it seems like everything I have done until now has no meaning at all. I have been taking a place that was never meant to be mine. Plus, I am not a Targaryen; if anything I would be a Blackfire, I guess.”

 

She turned to face him this time, her face as emotionless as ever.

 

“I was never his son.” She locked her eyes on his and took his chin in her hand to make sure he would not try to look away.

 

“People overestimate blood and, that is foolish. You are Ned Stark´s son; he raised you and, made you the man you are, no one can take that away from you. Even if your name changes to Jon Targaryen or Jon Blackfire, you will always be Jon Snow in the core of your soul.” She released him and waited for his answer.

 

“You say that; still all of you expect me to be a dragon when I am not; how am I going to accomplish my destiny if I am not a dragon in the inside?” Her gazed made him feel weird.

 

“I guess having the magic blood is more than enough.” He scowled deeply at her words so she added. “Maybe the prophecy needs a Jon Snow instead of a Targaryen. Who says Jon Snow can´t be a dragon?” She gave him one of her false yet pretty smiles.

 

“Do you really believe all this?” She was too smart and realistic to be playing the part she was.

 

“Not everything but I have seen some things that proof this insanity is real. The whole Realm should have paid some mind to the White Walkers long ago, yet you were the only one doing something.”

 

“I guess now I have to go meet those dragons.”

 

“How about doing what you have always wanted to do instead of what others expect?” Her eyes were locked in the distance without really seeing anything.

 

What I have always wanted to do is being the Lord of Winterfell but that would be treason to Ned Stark. There was no way he could tell her that; there was no way he could tell that to anyone.

 

“What if what I want to do is look for Arya, recover Winterfell or go to the free cities?” He asked.

_What of your freedom then?_ Although that was the question he wanted to ask her, he didn´t say it loud. Nevertheless, she had proven to be able to read his thoughts;  she had understood and gave him the answer.

 

“The raven only ordered me to protect you not to force you to do anything, so I guess I would have to follow you for the rest of my life. I have heard the free cities are beautiful and, the weather is way nicer there.” She offered with a hint of emotion.

 

 _Is she trying to be funny? or is she trying to make me feel_ better? I don´t think so. No matter how confused he was, he had already made his decision. _He had made an oath to defend the Wall and the Realm of men. The way he was going to do it may differ from what he had originally planned, but he would fulfill his oath all the same. And maybe then, I will be able to set the both of us free to do whatever we want to do with our lives._

 

“We will go to Storm's End.” She sighed heavily; it sounded as if she was wishing he would have selected one of the other options.

 

“I´ll make the preparations. We'll leave the day after tomorrow.” She stood up and made her way into the main building more likely to see Howland Reed and, tell him about what Jon had decided. The journey to Storm's End would be long; he would have enough time to decide who he would be from the on and, what he would do with his life after his destiny was fulfilled.

 

 

 


	2. The Arrival of Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here´s the second chapter. Hope you enjoy it.

Tyrion Lannister was able to witness how Daenerys Targaryen won the battle of Meeren with the help of her new khalasar; he also witnessed how she abandoned the city and thousands of people to a cruel uncertain destiny after that. Once the battle was over she came to understand that was not her place in the world and that she would never really be able to attain peace; her way of thinking was too different from that in the slave cities, so she decided she couldn´t afford to waste another second there, she was meant to recover her legacy and rule over Westeros.

When the Queen´s party made it to Volantis, Tyrion included and reluctantly accepted by Daenerys and the Greyjoy fleet, they received notice of the other Targaryen pretender, one Tyrion was already aware of. Amazingly, the boy already had the Storm lands in his hands. After Daenerys learned about this she rushed to confirm she was no longer the last Targaryen in the world, her heart full of hope. They were well received and made a quick yet fragil alliance with Aegon´s party, and although there was no marriage arrangement, the perspective of dragons to add to the army helped a lot.

 _You have been too hasty, you have already shown them that your weak point is your family and they will use the little prince to manipulate you; they could even steal your dragons._ Tyrion tried to warn Daenerys about this, but she didn´t listen to him; he didn´t try to force things further since his position was very unstable among the Targaryens; they only required him to conquer Casterly Rock and would easily get rid of him if they decided it was the best. Anyway, Viseryon had seemed to form a bond with the young prince so everything went smoothly until the winter brought its surprises.

One day, while they were having one of their inner circle breakfasts, a guard announced that two strangers had asked to speak to the Targaryen royals. Connington was both surprised and furious that someone had managed to make it so far without being noticed, and the young dragon was amused so he ordered the guard to send them. Tyrion couldn´t have drunk enough to be prepared for what he saw. Two hooded figures made their way into the main hall of Storm’s End castle and when they revealed their faces he saw a young beautiful woman with raven long hair held in a braid and big aqua eyes, the other was a young man he knew ages ago, someone he believed already dead.

“Jon Snow.” He said in a hushed voice. The man turned to him and his eyes widened in surprise at first, then quickly narrowed and showed his disdain towards him. A long time ago, as they stood together over the edge of the world, the boy had called him _my friend._

_We used to be friends but he must believe I was involved in the Stark downfall, I shall thank my sweet sister for getting rid of the few friends I have around the world._

“Who?” Daenerys questioned Tyrion.

“Do you know him?” This time it was Aegon who asked. Tyrion was preparing to answer but Connington spoke first.

“He is Eddard Stark’s _bastard._ ” His voice was as cold as ice.

After this statement Daenerys face changed from curiosity to anger and she shouted to one of her unsullied guards.

“Capture him, he is one of the Usurper´s dogs, he will be judged.” The guards moved to accomplish the order, but the woman stepped in their way.

“That is a bit harsh from you princess, we came to talk and we mean no damage to anyone, please listen to what we have to say first.”

_This girl must be stupider than Cersei; she called her princess, now they are truly dead._

“How dare you? I am the true Queen of Westeros and you will address me like that!” Daenerys spat in a furious tone. Calm as still water the girl responded.

“My apologies, since Aegon Targaryen holds the strongest claim to the throne… I didn´t know you were already married.” Her tone was even, it was as if the two of them weren´t surrounded by a bunch of soldiers. Daenerys on the other hand was bright red.

“You keep insulting me; you want to die so much?” Jon Snow was about to say something, but Aegon rose; it was just then that Tyrion realized the prince had been staring at the girl all the time.

_Idiot boy, getting infatuated so fast. Well I must admit she holds a strong magical aura._

“Wait dear aunt, you are being too hasty. I want to hear what they have to say. I am sure she didn´t mean to insult any of us.” He turned to the girl. “Am I right?” The girl just nodded. “Then tell us your name and purpose.”

“Thank you your Grace. My name is Cyara and I come from beyond the Wall. Since you already know my companion´s name I will get straight to the point. I am aware that you are looking for the third dragon head, is this correct?” The hall felt silent, even Connington was out of words.

 _How do they know about the prophecy? And what exactly does Jon Snow has to do with this?_ He remembered their talks about magic creatures menacing the Realm and he felt a shiver.

“Well that is true. The dragon must have three heads; we are looking for the third dragon rider.”

“You don´t have to look any longer; I brought the third dragon head with me. This man is not Jon Snow, he is Jon Targaryen, son of prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark; he is your half-brother, your Grace.”

The silent hall felt in chaos immediately. Daenerys and Connington were furious, the present lords were shouting something and Aegon looked like all the air had escaped from his lungs. Connington was trying to tell him to ignore the strangers but the prince wasn´t listening, he was just staring at Jon. Inside his head Tyrion suddenly was able to put the puzzle together.

 _It all makes sense now, it is indeed not impossible. In fact, it is more plausible than honorable Eddard Stark producing a bastard with an unknown woman. He was protecting his nephew from Robert´s rage._ His thoughts were interrupted by Aegon´s voice.

“I have a brother…” His voice was almost a whisper.

“This is foolish. Aegon; they are clearly making fun of you. Guards get rid of them immediately!”

“NO! No one will harm them.” Aegon´s voice reverberated in the room “I want to hear their explanation.” His voice was almost a plea in the last part.

“They are lying to you Aegon. Everyone knows his mother was Ashara Dayne.” The girl smiled.

“You are the one who is telling lies, my Lord. You are aware that Lady Ashara is not his mother, since she has been traveling with you, taking care of the rightful King.” Connington´s face fell, now he couldn´t deny his lie. _So that was Lemore´s big secret. That cheese seller is a skilled mummer._ No one else spoke again until the girl finished her story about the three eyed raven, the promised prince, the tower of Joy and the promise Ned Stark made to his sister all those years ago. Aegon was about to cry and Jon was emotionless, if anything, uncomfortable. Daenerys broke the moment.

“His mother was responsible of our disgrace, you can´t possibly think to accept them among us.” Daenerys yelled at Aegon.

“Then my father was responsible as well, he holds no guilt. He is my brother and your nephew; he is with us at this, we can recover the iron throne together, the three of us.” His eyes were shining.

“Even if what this woman says is true, he has the blood of traitors; he will kill us and claim the throne for himself if we accept him.”

Jon, who had remained silent until then spoke.

“Your Grace, I have no intention of claiming anything… I don´t even pretend to be accepted by you, this is not my place. I just came to ask for help.”

“We won´t waste our time recovering the North, the Starks got what they deserved.” Daenerys voice was venom. Jon was furious at the comment but he calmed down when the girl put a hand over his shoulder, then he continued speaking.

“This is not only about the North; it is about Westeros… maybe the whole world. The Others have raised once again and only fire can defeat them. If you are the rightful rulers of the Iron Throne you have the responsibility to defend the continent, unless you want to rule over the dead.”

“I don´t trust your words.”

“You don’t need to trust me, my Queen. You just need to act.” This time Aegon put his hand on his brother’s shoulder at some point he had gotten near the strange pair.

“We will protect this country, but first we need to claim the Iron Throne. We will do both things together, this is your place. You are not a Stark bastard, you are my brother and from now on everyone will treat you as a Targaryen prince or else.” Jon blinked at him. Connington was about to die and Daenerys was nowhere to be seen, but it didn´t matter, the prince had already made his decision.

“Leave us. I want to talk to my brother. Tyrion, you know him so he might feel more comfortable if you come with us.”

_I have to admit this King is good hearted. That is already better than his predecessors; there might still be hope for this damned Kingdom. But he gives his trust too easily and that will get him killed._

“Come Jon, we will show you two your room.” Aegon was happier than usual.

“Thank you your Grace.” Aegon made a face at that.

“Call me Aegon; you are my brother after all. Daenerys will calm in a while and then we will be able to talk to her so that she can introduce you to Rhaegal.”

“Who is Rhaegal?” Jon asked.

“It’s the third dragon, the one that is supposed to be yours.” The girl responded. She was an intriguing one.

“You seem to know a lot of things my Lady, who are you exactly?” The girl regarded Tyrion with a smile, a breath taking false smile.

“I am a guard sent by the third eyed raven to guide and protect the prince. By the way, I am not a lady so you can call me Cyara.”

“Your way of speaking is too correct for a wildling, Lady Cyara.” It was Tyrion´s turn to smile; the girl lost her balance for an instant.

“We have traveled all the way from the Wall to Storm’s End and I am a quick learner, there is nothing especial about it.”

 _There is much more to this girl than she shows, she is too smart for a wildling or commoner, too refined. I will find out who she truly is, it is just a matter of time._ They arrived to the chamber right next to Aegon´s.

“Here, my room is beside this one. This way my guard will be able to protect you as well. Oh, and … umm… Cyara, we will give you a room with the rest of the Ladys, is that okay?” When he spoke to Cyara he lost all of his composure, he had already grown from the cocky boy he met at the Rhyone, but he was intimidated by the girl´s presence.

_This will complicate his situation with Daenerys, but maybe she can be of some use so for now I won´t speak to Aegon against her._

“Actually I would prefer to remain near Jon, the room is large enough for the both of us.” Jon nodded. “I promised to protect him, I know you already offered your own guard, but they haven´t accepted him yet.” Aegon flushed immediately at the perspective of Jon and Cyara sleeping in the same room, and she noticed.

“We don´t have that kind of relationship, I just swore to protect him.”

“I am sorry, my assumption was insulting.” She laughed at that. Her laugh was a wonderful noise.

“You don´t have to worry so much, I am not that sensitive.” Aegon managed to control his embarrassment and produced a smile.

 _At this point she could ask him to throw himself over the window and he would obey without a doubt. If Jon is smart he could use her to obtain anything from his new found brother, but he is too honorable._ An unsullied made his appearance.

“Your Grace, Lord Connington and the Queen are waiting for you; they want to talk with you.”

“Of course they want to. I will go immediately.” He sighed and turned to the pair “You must be tired. I will send you serving people and clean clothes. We shall have supper together later.” He turned around and walked to face his reprimand.

“Connington will kill him for this.” Tyrion said nonchalantly.

“I hope he does not, Aegon already loves Jon. This went better than expected.” Cyara responded in the same tone.

“So you are planning to manipulate him…” Jon looked as if someone had slapped him.

“No, we just want help to deal with the Others! You used to make fun of it but they are real.”

“Okay, I believe you. As long as you don´t ask your brother to kill me.” Cyara laughed a second time.

“Why would I do that?”

“My family was directly responsible for what happened to your brothers and sisters; when you recognized me in the hall you gave me a queer frightening stare.”

“Were you involved in that?” His voice was emotionless.

“No, I wasn´t.”

“Then we are good, we… used to be friends. For a moment you reminded me of the rest of the Lannisters, that is all.” Suddenly he was vulnerable and Tyrion felt a struck of guilt. _I do have a weak point for bastards and broken things._

“We can still be friends; I could help you to deal with the dragons. I tried to protect your sister Sansa but I failed, I am sorry.” Tyrion wasn´t sure of why he confessed that; anyway, Jon didn´t answer, his expression was full with sadness; he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

“Forgive him, no matter what I tell him he still thinks he could have saved everyone if he hadn´t taken the black. He feels so lonely, especially after hearing the truth, I can´t stand it but I can´t tell him the four of them are alive.” It was like she was speaking to herself, but Tyrion ventured to ask.

“His siblings are alive? Why wouldn´t you tell him?” He was perplexed.

“I just know they are alive, the raven told me, but we don´t have any idea of their location. I don’t want to give him false hope. We don´t have time for fruitless searches.”

“Did he leave the Night’s Watch because of the guilt? I thought he would keep his oath no matter what.” She shook her head.

“I had to convince him to leave, he can be very stubborn; he wanted to stay even after they betrayed and tried to kill him. He said he couldn´t break his oath. I managed to convince him by telling him his brothers released him from his oath when they killed Jon Snow and that he should consider himself Jon Targaryen from now on, a different person with different resources to protect the kingdom.”

“You mean the dragons.” It was a statement; she nodded to him.

“He made up his mind when I told him he might also find justice for his family if he came with me. He is not the person the raven showed me the first time, he is lost. He hasn´t spoken to me about that but I think he wishes to follow his family to dead. I hope I can manage to obtain some information while we are here, he is meant for greater things but he needs support.” Her expression was hurtful and Tyrion understood something.

_There is more than her oath to protect him, she is in love with him and shares his suffering. Maybe she hasn´t realized yet, but certainly Jon Snow can consider himself a lucky man; she would die for him._

“Why are you telling me this much?” Her smile was sad, but was the sincerer she had shown him.

“I am not an idiot if that’s what is in your mind. I know you are smart and kinder than most people would think; he needs friends like you to help him deal with this new life. Daenerys and Aegon are wasting your intellect, you could be the greatest Hand of the King but they have been blinded by their desire of revenge, wrath, prejudices and worshiping advisors.” Tyrion tried hard to remain expressionless despite his amusement.

“I thought you weren´t going for the Iron Throne.” He said teasingly.

“We aren´t.” Her answer was firm, but calm. “We only want to stop those monsters and in order to do that we need certain power and influence over the Iron Throne.” She sighed. “Power can only be attained by playing the game and to play we need the best players.” Her eyes were earnest.

“You overestimate me I could betray your intentions to the Silver Queen to gain her favor, she certainly doesn´t like you.” Tyrion tried to sound as cunning as possible.

“Trust no one, am I right? That is a wise advice, but there is no person who can survive alone and sooner or later we might have to take a risk and trust someone, anyone. I am just giving you an option; we don´t hold the power of an army but we care take care of each other, think about it.” She followed Jon Snow into the room.

 _If I have to choose a dragon I might as well choose the one that appreciates my abilities and doesn´t want me dead because of what my family has done; besides I have to solve the mystery of this Winter Maiden, this place is quite boring after all._ With that in mind he returned to his own quarters to consider the possibilites.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some might not like the way I developed Daenerys but after reading the last book that is how I think she would act in that kind of situation.


	3. Meeting

Aegon had so much in mind: the war, the throne, the alliances to be made, his marriage prospects, the dragons, the Others, the three eyed raven, his brother and the girl with raven hair. He had so much to think about and he wasn´t able to grasp a clear perspective of anything. Connington was furious with him for trusting them so easily but there was no way he could understand the instant connection he felt when he saw Jon the first time; it was similar to that time when he first met Viseryon, he was dragged to him and a sudden affection made its way through his heart. It didn’t matter who his mother was; he had suffered as much as him and Daenerys because of their Targaryen blood, even if he wasn´t aware that he had it. Connington shouted at him for what seemed an eternity and he remained silent since he knew he would gain nothing arguing with him.

 _He will have to accept it. I will be his King an Jon his prince if he truly was my father´s friend he will take care of Jon as he has taken care of me until now._ These thoughts calmed him for a moment until his mind made its way towards Daenerys. His aunt refused to believe Jon was who he said he was, she said the only proof she would accept would be that Rhaegal recognized him the way Viseryon recognized Aegon.

 _It will go well, once Rhaegal recognizes Jon everyone will have to respect him and treat him the way he deserves. We will learn about each other’s life and grow closer as the brothers we are, we will support each other, we won´t have to be alone anymore and we will take back what is ours._ This vision of the future made him smile from the bottom of his heart; he had always longed for his family, Daenerys was his family too, of course but an Aunt couldn´t be compared to a sibling.

 _I must find a way to thank Cyara for bringing my brother to me._ He smiled a different kind of smile, one which faded as fast as it came. When he pictured her image he felt weird, he felt something he had never felt before and the word _love_ flashed in his mind. Suddenly he felt desperate.

 _No that can´t be. I will marry Daenerys or a Lady who represents an advantage for our situation, love will get in the way. I swore I would never give up everything for love, unlike my father did._ Up until that moment he had only thought of marriage as a political issue, he would marry whoever Connington thought was suitable for becoming his Queen and he was okay with that, at least until he met her. He felt sad but determined.

_I won´t give in to this, I am stronger than that and I will do what is needed and no less._

His resolve dissolved when he went to call Jon to attend supper. He knocked the door and she opened; she was no longer in breeches she was wearing when she met her but in a dress one of the maids gave her. The dress was simple but she made it seem a great deal. She smiled at him.

“Your Grace, can we help you?”

“I came to pick you up for supper.” His hands were sweating. Cyara gave a quick look into the room.

“I am not sure this is a good idea, we don´t want to cause trouble. Perhaps this should wait until things have calmed a bit, not to mention Jon is still tired. He is sleeping right now.” He felt a struck of disappointment and she noticed.

“I want to get to know him better, he is my brother.”

“I understand…” Jon made an unintelligible noise so Cyara stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her. “You will have time to get to know each other, I promise.” She paused looking for the right words to say “Please understand that his whole life he thought of the Stark children as his siblings and all of them are already lost to him; he has to confront and overcome this situation to face you and his new circumstances properly. Daenerys and Connington questioning him and telling how his late family deserved its destiny won´t help at all.”

“I won´t allow them to utter a word.” Her look was grateful.

“I know but it will still be too much for him. For now he needs to rest; you will be able to talk to him tomorrow if it is just the two of you; that will be a good start.”

“Very well, I will believe your word.”

“Thank you, your Grace. Please enjoy your food.” Just before she closed the door again Aegon managed to say.

“Thank you for taking care of him and bringing him here.” For a moment a shade of pink colored her porcelain cheeks.

“I am just doing my job, your Grace.” And she was gone.

Aegon made his way to the main hall where the high lords, the commanders and counselors were having supper. He took his seat between Connington and Daenerys and spent the whole night staring at his cup, since wine had the delicacy of not throwing mortal stares at him every five seconds. It was the first time in his life that he felt…rejected but he decided he wouldn´t apologize to neither of them; he wanted to talk to Jon, learn how his life had been until they met and tell him things about himself. He had friends like Haldon, Duck and others he had met since he landed in Westeros but being able to share things with a brother was a whole different matter. He had never realized until that morning that he had been longing for the family he never met and even if others liked it or not Jon was the last trace of it so he definitely wouldn´t let him go away.

After dinner he spent some time talking and japing with his guests as was expected from him, even if his mind wasn´t there at all. He had the notion that at some point he danced with a couple of ladys but he would not remember how they were dressed or their names; he was too busy looking for a way to approach to Jon, the right words to make his expectations clear. This remained in his mind until late at night making him unable to sleep; his eyes opened in the middle of darkness, lost in the void. When he wasn´t able to deal with it anymore he put on a tunic and exited the room. Just after he closed the door to his room he noticed a figure standing in front of Jon’s room; it took him some time to realize that it was Cyara. He doubted a second then walked in the opposite direction.

“Sorry if I scared you.” Her clear voice almost enlightened the corridor. Aegon turned on his heels and walked in her direction.

“I wasn´t expecting to find someone here this late at night but I wasn´t scared.” He spoke to the darkness.

“Yes, I forgot a dragon doesn´t fear anyone.” Her tone was teasing and that was lovely.

“Have you spoken to Daenerys?” It sounded like something she repeated whenever the council explained the dangers of a battle.

“I don’t have to speak with her to understand how she thinks; a dangerous way of thinking if I am allowed to share a bit of my mind. Not everything can be forced through _Fire and blood._ ” Aegon couldn´t discern her expression at that moment.

“I don´t understand how you manage to drift between japing and serious talk so easily.”

“Some things are so serious they become ridiculous. Anyway, do you have trouble sleeping Your Grace?” He meditated whether to share his worries with her; no matter how smart she was, she was still a stranger.

“Recovering the throne is a pain in the ass and now I have a brother who won´t talk to me.” He sounded like a child, his frustration overflowing.

“It is not like he is avoiding you, just as you he has his hands full. All will be cleared tomorrow when you spend some time together.” The tone she used was reassuring enough to calm him down.

“Will he really receive me?”

“I told you before, he needed to rest. Our journey was long and difficult because of the winter.”

“What about you? Don´t you need to rest from the journey?”

“I lived beyond the Wall for almost eight years, life is much more easy South of the Wall and I wasn´t recovering from injuries, unlike him.” He could almost see her shrugging. Aegon was curious about the _injuries_ but decided that was something he should ask Jon so he moved to the next question in his mind.

“Where did you live before those eight years?” A long silence felt among them and the prince regretted his question.

“I… far away, it is not important. I don´t remember a lot about the first part of my life.”

“It wasn´t my intention to bring back bad memories for you.” Somehow, in the short time he had known her he always managed to say something inappropriate to her.

“It is not a big deal for me. Why do you worry so much when you talk to me? ”

“I don´t know what might offend you. I guess the reason is I have never dealt with one of your kind.” He gave the most honest answer he could think of.

“You mean a wildling.” Her voice was light once more

“No, you are one of a kind.” He blushed and felt grateful for the deep darkness that surrounded them. Suddenly he felt sleepy, for now, his worries were gone. “I will go back to sleep now, how about you?”

“I will guard the door until dawn. Rest well, your Grace.” He was aware she would reject any help he could offer regarding Jon´s safety so he didn´t say anything else. His guards stepped aside so that he could enter his room.

Once he was in his bed, sleep found its way rather quickly. He originally had planned to sneak into the kitchen and drag some wine to help him put his mind at ease but found something better in the way. He slept soundly until next morning and when he awoke he felt lighter, ready to talk with Jon. He decided to dress simple and began to pace in his room considering if it would be desperate to go to look for Jon himself; he was eager to talk to him but he was going to be King so he couldn´t be seen begging for someone else attention, not even his brother’s. He was consuming himself when there was a slight knock in the door after which his guard announced that someone wanted to talk to him. He opened himself and was received by _her_ beautiful smile.

“Good morning, Your Grace. I came to deliver you someone.” She motioned to Jon and everything but pushed him into Aegon´s room and prepared to leave. “Excuse me then.” He was about to ask her to stay but Jon spoke first.

“Don’t leave.” Jon was holding her upper arm. “This will be very awkward as it is.”

“I don´t think my presence will change the awkwardness of this situation.” She looked directly into his steel grey eyes.

“True enough but since you dragged me into this you will stay.”

“Whatever, I have nothing better to do anyway.” The both of them entered and sat at the dining table across from Aegon. The prince motioned to his guard and asked him to send food for three.

“His Grace won´t be having breakfast with the Queen and the Hand today?”

“No, they can´t stand my presence. Do as I said, please.” He hadn’t liked the question. The man gave him a slight bow before exiting the room. After that the three of them remained in silence for what seemed an eternity not even able to stare each other; the maids even had brought the food but the silence remained.

_I expected this to be hard but this is ridiculous. Maybe it is still too early for this._

“Seven Hells!  Say something, anything.” Her voice carried a lot of frustration. The intervention made Jon blink at her then turned to face Aegon directly for the first time since he arrived the day before.

“How are you so sure we are brothers? We don´t resemble the other at all, this is stupid.” That hurt Aegon, he would not admit it but it did hurt.

“You mean _I_ am stupid. If you don´t believe her words, what are you doing here?”

“I do believe her but I don´t enjoy being you distraction in the middle of the war, I got better things to do. I don´t want your pity, don´t pretend you are interested in me just because you are bored. You have no reason to do this.”

“That is not… I…arg! You are so irritating.” He paused and released a deep sigh. “You are my family.” Jon winced when he heard the last word. “I can´t explain it but somehow I am sure of it without any proof and I can´t stand we behave as strangers despite being brothers, that is my reason for doing this.”

“You already have a family, Daenerys…” Aegon interrupted him immediately.

“No matter that we are close in age; an aunt is not the same as a brother. Plus, sometimes it seems she´s crazy, we don´t get along that well. She wants the Throne for her and I happen to be standing in the middle; if we weren´t kin she would get rid of me, I have no doubt.” Much to his surprise, the hard expression Jon was wearing softened.

“Shouldn’t you hate me for what Lyanna brought upon your family?”

 _He doesn’t refer to Lyanna as his mother; he has more trouble than me accepting this. I understand how it is to be told your whole life has been a lie._ He remembered when Connington told him who he really was the day he turned twelve. _A different name, a different origin and a different destiny; I wasn´t prepared to face my destiny; even now I am not fully prepared._ There were times, mostly when he felt lonely and uncertain that he wished he could go back to be Young Griff the sell sword; to be free from his duty.

“I am not blinded by the desire of revenge like Daenerys and Connington. I want to recover my legacy but I hold no grudge against anyone who took part in the rebellion, most of them are dead already and even if they were alive, clinging to the past is insane. You were involved in that war as much as I was involved with my grandfather’s atrocities.” Jon had his eyes locked into the void, when he stared at Aegon again the grey storm had transformed into calm steel.

“What do you want to know?” Aegon couldn´t repress the smile that appeared in his face, his first step had succeeded.

“I would like to hear about Winterfell and the Night’s Watch, how you became Lord Commander, I want to know how you have been living your whole life.” Jon took a deep breath and began describing Winterfell, Lady Catelyn and the five children who had been his siblings until the war changed everything. He put especial emphasis on Arya Stark, his _little sister_ ; the girl who loved him and considered him her favorite brother even if he was a bastard.

“She might be already dead. I couldn´t protect her and I won´t see her ever again.” His face was solemn but his eyes reflected his sadness. Aegon thought of Rhaenys, he had suffered for her and swore to avenge her but he was too young when she died so he didn´t remember a single thing about her so he couldn´t imagine how it should be to lose someone you knew so well, someone with whom you had shared so much. He decided to remain silent because he didn´t want to comment on something he didn´t understand; he changed the topic.

“What about the Night´s Watch? They named you Lord Commander but then tried to end you. I don´t get it.”

“I was trying hard to fortify the Wall and all its castles but we didn´t have enough people for that so I decided to offer the free folk protection in exchange of their help fighting the Others. My brothers from the Watch didn´t like that at all, for some reason they believed the free folk represented a much more dangerous threat than magical creatures that common weapons can´t touch. Some of them might have been bribed by the Lannisters to kill me.” He sighed and lowered his head. “And then the letter came. Ramsay Bolton claimed he was the new lord of Winterfell and that Arya had escaped from their forced marriage and ordered me to return her to him or he would kill me.” He was giving his all to contain his rage. “I decided to march South to face him and end him for the sake of everyone but that was the straw that broke the horse back with my brothers. They considered my actions as treason to the Watch and stabbed me at least five times.” Aegon was nauseous at the unfairness of the betrayal.

“How did you manage to survive?” Jon lifted his head and nodded towards the silent Cyara.

“She saved my life by killing the traitors then took me away from the Wall and healed my injuries. She took care of me; when I recovered my strength she guided me to Howland Reed who told me about Lyanna and Rhaegar. Finally I decided to follow her here to meet the dragons.” Aegon had thought that he had had a difficult life, always hiding and having fear but then he understood he wasn´t the only one.

“We will find justice for our families when we get the Iron Throne.” He didn´t answer to that. “If there is any question you have about me, I will be happy to answer.”

“I… look. I think we are meant to get to know each other and grow closer but I am not ready. Whenever I feel like we are starting to understand the other it feels as if I am betraying Robb; he was my brother and my best friend, even if I am the son of a dragon and not a dire wolf.” Aegon forced a smile.

_Blood is not enough; I can´t compete with the bonds he built and treasured for years but maybe the right amount of time will allow us to connect as family._

“We don´t have to become family right away. We could start being friends.”

“Being friends would be fine.” Jon looked at him, violet and steel gray meeting. “We really have nothing in common; I mean our appearance is complete opposite, isn´t it curious?” Aegon wasn´t sure of how to respond but luckily Cyara decided she had already been silent for long enough.

“You have the Targaryen look and you the Stark look but you do have a lot in common. You both are good, fair, kind, stubborn and care for others; you look for peace and worry over making the right choices. You haven´t notice but you have the same idiotic smile even if Jon doesn´t smile that often and when you are feeling down your eyes hold the same shade of sadness” Those words gave Aegon enough hope; he smiled once more.

“I am not stubborn and my smile isn´t that foolish.” He said pointing Aegon; he should have liked the comment as well because he was suppressing his own smile, when he failed he blushed and turned away. Cyara burst into laughter; it was a beautiful sound.

_I have hated my father and Lyanna Stark for ruining our lives and causing so much pain but maybe they did something good for me without noticing. They gave me Jon._

The moment ended when Daenerys and Connington entered the room without permission. Daenerys was smiling sweetly and Connington seemed satisfied, Aegon immediately understood things would get worse before becoming better.

“Good morning, dear nephew, lady wildling, my brother´s bastard. I see you were having fun, so bad you didn´t invite us.” Cyara was now standing and had positioned herself between them and Jon; the laughter was gone.

“You are being childish Daenerys, what is it that bothers you so much? Why can´t you accept the situation and move on?”

“This girl tells beautiful stories but being a Targaryen is something serious; we can´t hand him a dragon and our support just because they claim his mother was the Stark whore.” She was trying to make them angry; if they attacked her they were as good as dead. Fortunately they were smarter than that.

“I will provide you any proof you need, princess.” Cyara´s face was ice contrasting with thee fire burning in Daenerys beautiful features.

“And you will.” Her false smile widened. “Tomorrow the bastard will face Rhaegal; he will try to ride him just as Aegon did with Viseryon. If he manages somehow to succeed we will all recognize he has Targaryen blood; on the other hand if he fails he will be burned by Rhaegal´s flames as punishment for lying and you, wildling, will burn with him.”

“That is crazy! Rhaegal and Viseryon are not the same; Rhaegal is too wild to be tamed that easily and even you have to use the horn to control Drogon.” Aegon wanted to slap his aunt.

“We won´t accept any other proof.” Connington stated. “This is for your sake Aegon.” They were gone as soon as they had arrived.

“I will find a way to stop them, I promise.”

“You can´t stop them but Jon will able to accomplish this, I am sure.”

“What? Are you insane Cyara? How am I going to face a dragon?” Jon´s face went blank.

“He will recognize your blood and even if something were to go wrong you can use your warg skills, like you do with ghost.”

“Ghost is not a fucking dragon! You saved me from the Red Priest just to bring me here to be burned alive because of something you were told by a bird! Well at least you will burn with me.” Jon was out of himself when he left the room.

“He will be fine, right?” She didn´t answer to him; she was already lost in her thoughts and murmuring something. Her eyes were full of hate.

_Dear Dany, you better pray they both get burned to the core tomorrow because if they survive you will have to deal with their rage for the rest of your life and as things are you are going to have to deal with mine already._


	4. Madness or Greatness

Dany couldn´t sleep that night, every time she closed her eyes the nightmares came one after another and she woke up shivering and scared as she had had all those years ago whenever Viserys decided to release his rage on her.

 _I am the blood of the dragon and the dragon does not fear anything or anyone. I am the blood of the dragon. I am the blood of the dragon. I am the blood of the dragon. I am the blood of the dragon. I am not scared._ She repeated those words a thousand times but it didn´t help. The fear had taken root and it wouldn´t go away. She decided then to look for the origin of her fear; it wasn’t something from the past, no, it was a present fear but she didn´t know what produced her fear until she remembered the first treason she suffered, the treason for blood.

She hadn´t thought of Mirri Maz Duur for years but right now she couldn´t manage to get her out of her mind. She remembered how the witch had laughed at her, how she had taken what was most precious to her and how she had screamed when Dany burnt her alive in Drogo’s funeral pyre.

 _But I am not scared of her anymore, she got what she deserved. Then what is it that I am so scared of?_ Dany then pictured the woman´s eyes, so full of hate for her and her kahlasar. _It is not her memory that I fear but the hate in her eyes._ She realized. _But her hate can´t hurt me anymore I made sure myself to send her to hell._ Dany kept picturing her eyes and her hate until the brown eyes changed to aqua. _Those are not her eyes; those eyes belong to someone else. “The wildling, they belong to the wildling.”_ A voice that sounded like Viserys shouted in her head. _Yes, the wildling whore had hate in her eyes when I left Aegon´s room this morning; she hates me for what I will do to the Stark bastard. She wants to give him the Throne; she thinks I don´t know but I won´t let her have it her way. My children, the unsullied and my khalasar will protect me._ Somehow her eyes kept casting an unwanted feeling upon her.

She tried to sleep again but it didn´t happen so she went through the rest of the night looking through her window thinking of Aegon. She was so happy when they met, to know she was not the last of her kind and that she could share the burden of ruling with him but he was not what she had expected; he was kind and good and happy to meet her as well but he didn´t shared her desire for justice and even called it revenge.

“ _We can´t burn the whole kingdom to ashes for something that happened almost twenty years ago. We are here to reunite our legacy and guide this people to a better fate the Usurper did. I won´t go with this fire and blood thing.”_ That had been it; at the beginning Aegon did his best as well to find a way for them to understand each other but it ended at some point; their way of thinking was just too different and with every council session they preceded together there appeared yet another reason to argue and separate them. It didn´t help at all that she had refused the marriage proposal when they first met; Aegon didn´t take it bad but Connington was furious and took it as an insult to the prince. The reason for her refusal was that she thought of it inappropriate and she didn´t love him that way; she would never love anyone that way ever again, not after Drogo… not after Daario.

To make things worse, with the time Dany realized that even if they managed to conquer the Iron Throne together she would hold no power and the only way for her to gain any influence over the Realm would be to marry her nephew; that or try and get the rule for herself. Dany was getting desperate but even if there was trouble among them, she didn’t even want to consider going against him; so as she saw it as the only remaining option to become Queen she had to give it a chance. So she decided she would have to set the marriage issue over the table once again and was ready to give up some of her ideals for him; she even sent Daario away from her, so that she could focus her attention on Aegon. It had broken her heart and Daario couldn´t be madder at her but it was the only thing left to do if she wanted to recover her nephew´s trust. 

It was hard, but it was working until _they_ appeared and ruined it. In two days they were able to expose the differences between Dany and Aegon once more and overthrow her hard made advances; they even made her go to Connington for help. The man did not like her at all, from the first time they crossed words he recognized her as a threat to Aegon´s claim and was very careful with her but at least they shared their opinion over those two. They came together with the plan even when they were aware that Aegon would be mad at them but it would end once they proved it was all a lie.

Aegon indeed was mad and stayed in his room the whole day as the bastard did. The concerning one was the wildling whore, she had been wandering the castle and talking to the servants, the soldiers and Tyrion Lannister as if everything was the way it should be. She wasn´t worried which considering she cared for the bastard was weird. Connington and Dany had thought they would try to escape from their destiny but they remained in the castle and that made her worry even more, suddenly she was not so sure that they would be burnt to a crisp.

 _No, they will die and I will be Queen. They will die tomorrow and I won´t have to see them ever again. Aegon will have to listen to me after that and we will accomplish our destiny together. “Greatness or madness.”_ Ser Barristan voice told her. _This is not madness but justice; Aegon is too soft and if he doesn´t intend to protect himself and his kin, then I will._

When the sun started to rise she saw her dragons dancing in the sky; they were ready for hunting. She enjoyed the sight of them; they made her feel powerful, provided her with strength she had never imagined to exist within her. During years she lived under the shadow of her brother and his tales of the power of the dragons, telling her she didn´t know the first thing about the Targaryens; now, she understood it was Viserys who had no clue of how was the real deal.

She was tired but started to prepare for the day; it would be a memorable day, she was certain of that. Missandei brought along with other two maids the water for her bath, scrubbed her back and untangled her silvery hair. She chose a simple dress with leather details on it because it made her seem more dangerous than the silks she used to wear. Missandei braided her hair in the Dothraki way and attached the four bells that represented her victories so far and she intended to add one more that day. She exited the room and was walking down the hallway when she heard the voices; she recognized them immediately. Aegon and the wildling whore were arguing over something so she held her breath and listened carefully.

“I am telling you to get him out of here while there´s still a chance or there won´t be an opportunity to turn back.” Aegon sounded desperate.

“I can´t, he won´t; he is mad at me and won´t listen to anything I will say. Anyway we can´t run away because you are scared, that would made them think we were lying.” Her voice was calm as ever; Dany hated her fucking self-confidence and the way she carried herself as if she had been born a Lady or worst, a Queen.

“I prefer that over seeing him get burnt. I know in my heart he is my brother but the dragons are dangerous and Rhaegal is the most dangerous of all, even Daenerys is scared of him although she won´t admit it. I required instruction from Tyrion and Daenerys herself before being able to face Viseryon and they won´t give Jon that.” His voice sounded pleading.

 _Fool, fool, fool. The dragon must not plea and you are pleading to a whore to save a bastard from his punishment._ She was furious at her, at Aegon and the bastard.

“He won´t get burnt. If you are so worried go and give him some advice before the time comes.”

“He is furious; I don´t like the idea of disturbing him.” She sighed in exasperation.

“Then I can´t do a thing to make you feel better. Excuse me, your Grace. I´d like to have something to eat before dying.” She walked away but then returned. “He is not furious at you; he might receive you and the gods now he needs company right now.” She left for real this time.

 _I should kill her already; she holds too much power upon Aegon._ She didn’t know what was more frustrating: that she held control upon Aegon or that it wasn´t Dany who had that control over him. She entered the main hall faking a sweet smile for the lords and ladys that were attending the meal. She walked quickly to seat near Connington and the dwarf that was there already; she couldn´t stand him either.

“Look, here she is, our dearest Queen.” He said as a greeting. She swallowed her anger; she didn’t need fights, at least not then.

“Good morning Lord Tyrion, Lord Connington.” Connington responded with a grunt but the dwarf kept talking.

“Excellent morning indeed, especially to prepare a roasted dire wolf, don´t you think?” He made a face as if he was about to eat something delicious.

_So he wants to talk about this; I will make him regret it later._

“He claims he is a dragon so we might not have dire wolf for dinner tonight.” She said sweetly as queens must.

“Oh, but you wish him to be a dire wolf so that you can turn him into ashes.” He made a pause and his amused expression turned into something dark. “Shall I remind you what happened the last time a Targaryen King turned a Stark into ashes, my Queen?”

“Then he is a Stark after all.” She threw at him roughly. He shrugged.

“His mother was a Stark and he was raised as a Stark so he is a Stark, but that doesn´t mean he is not Rhaegar´s son.”

“The North won´t raise for a bastard, a deserter no less.” Connington said coldly. “No one will rise to avenge his death, well, the girl could but she can´t fight against a whole army alone and that is if she can fight at all.” Dany smiled at the idea of the whore facing her khalasar.

_She is pretty, maybe I won´t kill her and give her to one of my loyal dothrakis as a reward for their services. She might learn where her place is in this world after that._

“His brother will react.” Tyrion said after sipping his wine.

 _He has no brother left._  Dany was thinking when the dwarf completed his statement.

“Do you fancy another Dance of the Dragons?” He had a wide smile spreading through his awful face.

“Aegon wouldn´t…” Was all Connington managed to utter but he didn´t seem to believe his own words.

“A Targaryen prince ruining everything for the love of a Stark; it is not that hard to believe.” The dwarf delivered his final blow and Connington´s face was constricted with anger or was it fear? Maybe pain.

“Get out of here dwarf or I will cut your head.” Dany shouted and realized that the rest of the assistants were giving her scared looks.

_Fucking dwarf; I am going to burn you as well._

“Fine, fine, I apologize. I am too short already.” He smiled cunningly this time “I won´t be responsible for our Queen turning mad.” There were no laughs this time and the whole hall was staring at her. It shattered her pride to pieces but she made herself smile and directed herself to the lords and ladys.

“Isn´t lord Tyrion hilarious? You may not know but when I met him he was traveling the world disguised as a comedian. He always makes us laugh.” The awkward silence remained for a while but eventually all the faces relaxed and they continued with their meal. She took her seat again.

“The dwarf is dangerous,” Connington told her expressionless “We need to get rid of him.” His words would certainly rise rumors and gossip about her; she didn’t need that. After a few days in the castle she realized the subjects did not like her; they loved Aegon but they feared her and just accepted her because of him; the dwarf’s words would damage her image even more.

“Indeed, my lord but for now the wildling whore and the bastard must be our first concern. Tyrion Lannister can wait until they both become ashes.” Connington nodded. They didn´t like each other but for now they were into this together.

_Maybe I can take care of you after the dwarf and Aegon will have no one but me._

With breakfast over she ordered her subjects to gather in the yard. She made her way there with Connington by her side. The unsullied were placed in the perimeter in front of the lordish attendants. The whore had climbed to the roof of the armory and was holding something in her hands.

 _A bow? How stupid, as if an arrow could kill dragon. There is no way to kill a dragon._ But she remembered something Tyrion once told her. _“Dragons can be killed and the Dornish proved it possible; they are strong and fire made flesh but they are not invincible.” The eyes are their weakness._ She remembered. _But you would need the greatest archer in the whole world to put an arrow through a dragon´s eye “But she knows about the way to kill them.”_ Tyrion´s voice retorted and the sentence made her uneasy.

The last to make it to the yard were Aegon who was accompanying the bastard and whispering something to him. Tyrion Lannister was with them as well and he pointed towards the armory as he laughed. When Aegon saw the whore he raised his hand and waved at her; she just nodded. The three men walked towards Dany and greeted her, each as coldly as the previous one. They positioned to her right and she ordered her unsullied to release Rhaegal; her heart was full of emotion.

When the dragon landed in the middle of the yard a great silence and expectation covered the place. The men were whispering, women shouting and the whore put an arrow in the bow. Dany moved forward and spoke to the crowd.

“This man.” She started, pointing to the bastard. “Claims he is of my blood, your King´s blood but he holds resemblance to one of the Usurper´s dogs so I can´t accept what he says.” There were shouts and she felt Aegon´s gaze piercing her with his anger. “However I am a merciful fair Queen so I decided to give him an opportunity to proof who he is. He will try to ride mi son Rhaegal and if he succeeds I will receive him as my nephew and you will have to respect him as part of the royal family, but if he fails… well, Rhaegal has always had good appetite. The crowd burst into laughter and she knew she would win this one. “Jon Snow, come forward and face your fate.” Aegon gave the bastard´s shoulder a squeeze before letting him go.

The bastard walked cautiously towards Rhaegal until he was facing the dragon. If he was scared he didn´t show it. Before stepping even closer he gave a look towards the roof of the armory where the whore nodded to him; he breathed deeply and turned to give two more steps. Rhaegal noticed the bastard’s presence and extended his wings while he snarled but the bastard didn´t move a millimeter. The dragon sniffed at him and raised its head as he did when he was about to throw fire and Dany smiled.

_And it all ends now. Goodbye bastard._

But that was not it. When the dragon moved his head forward he just threw a bunch of smoke at the bastards face, then lowered the head and remained like that. Everyone was silent until Aegon shouted.

“Now, Jon. He is waiting for you.” The bastard doubted a moment before climbing into Rhaegal´s back and holding to his neck tightly. Rhaegal took off and Dany´s hopes were shattered into pieces. He looked around and saw Connington´s unbelieving face and the smile shinning across Aegon´s face.

 _This can´t be possible._ She remembered her previous speech. _I have recognized him in front of the whole court and I can´t take my words back after this._ The crowd was cheering for the third dragon head. She stood still as she glanced at Rhaegal´s figure dancing in the sky.

An undeterminable amount of time passed until the dragon made its way back to the castle; after it landed she heard screams coming from the gates. The bastard dismounted gracefully and even thanked the dragon for the ride before walking to the entrance where he said something to the guards. He returned to the ones who were still in the yard with Dany, Aegon included; he was being followed by a huge white wolf with red eyes and too horses charged with stuff. He regarded Dany.

“Your Grace since I have succeeded I assume that you will receive me as your kin and let me bring my companions with me.” Dany was furious but she couldn´t say a thing. Aegon was amused.

“So this is the dire wolf. It is amazing, may I touch it?” The bastard nodded. When Aegon reached for it the beast remained still and even licked his hand while he laughed like an idiot. The whore walked to the bastard.

“I told you.” She smiled and Dany cursed her smile a thousand times.

“If you were so sure why were you holding a bow?” The bastard retorted and she shrugged.

“I was missing my friend, that’s all.” She pointed to one of the horses, the one which was carrying a long black bow. He furrowed at her.

“How was it? Riding a dragon I mean.” Tyrion Lannister was amazed.

“Scary; I don´t want to repeat that in a long while.”

“You will have to spend time with him so that he gets to recognize you better, you don’t need to ride him though.” Aegon added. The three of them motioned to the horses as the bastard and his whore recovered their belongings.

“How are we going to get rid of him now?” Dany asked to Connington who as her last piece of hope.

“We won´t do anything to him. I hate his mother but he is truly the son of Rhaegar and a brother to Aegon.” His eyes were staring at the distance.

“What if he tries to harm Aegon?” He looked at her intensely.

“Then I will kill him myself. I will kill anyone who represents a menace to his life.” He entered the castle and Dany was left alone with a Ser Barristan as quiet as ever.

 _You and your whore will pay, bastard. I don’t care if you are my nephew; your fucking mother took everything away from us and I will do the same with you. “Madness or greatness.”_ The words ringed as a song in her head. She walked as fast as she could to her chambers, avoiding the lords who were congratulating her for finding her lost nephew and third dragon head. She closed the door behind her and threw herself to the bed, and only then she allowed herself to cry out her frustration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rather short, but it was difficult for me to figure out Daenerys point of view. I hope it wasn´t too OOC.  
> Leave comments, they will be a lot of help.


	5. Regaining the Lost

This was _no one´s_ first mission in nearly one and a half year. After what happened when she was Mercy, the kind man had ordered to leave Izembaro and the others and return to the house of Black and White. He told her she was still stuck with the girl _no one_ once was, so he would not give her any more missions until she properly became _no one_. She wasn´t going to be allowed to leave the place and her chores would be reduced to help in the kitchen and separate the clothes of those who had already received the gift; it was the most boring time _no one_ has ever experienced but she deserved it, at least she had been allowed to remain with the Faceless Men.

Every single day the kind man would ask her who she was and she would answer _no one_. During the first moons after the incident with the guard from Westeros the kind man would tell her she was lying but after a year she managed to convince him and herself that she was truly _no one_. _No one_ was allowed from then on to help with some more important chores and tried her best so that one day she could walk out of the House of Black and White and be sent into missions. One day when the kind man asked her the question he was carrying something covered with some clothes; he had uncovered the object in front of her and _no one_ saw a thin blade like the ones the criminals of the city used. He held the blade at level with her eyes so that _no one_ could have a good look of it while he asked the question. _“Who are you?”_ As he always did. _“No one.”_ She gave the answer as she stared curiously at the blade. _“I agree, you are no one.”_ There was a hint of a smile in the man´s face so she deducted she had finally succeeded at becoming _no one_. _“What is that?” No one_ asked as she pointed to the blade. _“A needle.”_ The kind man told her and even though _no one_ thought the answer was a weird one, she accepted it.

After that the kind man told her that she would be finally assigned a mission and it would be an important one, far from the free cities, in Westeros. _No one_ would travel to a place called Storm´s End and look for the _Silver Prince_ to give him the gift. If she accomplished the mission she would then be recognized as one of the Faceless Men. _No one_ received a new plain face and named it Ella, she was also given a passage in a ship directed towards the Stormlands and supplies for the trip and the mission. She prepared herself and packed some adequate clothes for the cold weather that would receive her.

When _no one_ was ready she made her way to the port to board the ship; before she could put a foot on it, someone held her by the arm and she noticed immediately it was the kind man; he gave her the blade he had shown her the last time he made the question and said one single thing, _“Valar morghulis”_ so she answered, _“Valar dohaeris”_ and boarded. _No one_ wasn´t sure why but she had the feeling those were farewell words and she would not see the kind man or the House of Black and White again.

When she first made it to Westeros she remained in the little town the ship left her to get some useful information; there she learned about the Silver Prince and the Dragon Queen, their armies and their fragile alliance. _Silver hair and violet eyes, silver hair and violet eyes; maybe it was the Dragon Queen who paid to give the prince the gift._ It was obvious that there existed some tension among them that might turn out useful for _no one_ and her task. She made the journey to Storm´s End after she decided there was nothing else for her to learn in the town but it took her more time than _no one_ had expected since the cold weather and the heavy snows were worse than she had predicted.

When she finally made it to the castle and managed to enter as a servant, _no one_ heard the Prince was not there and it might take him around half a moon´s time to return. No one considered following her target but first she must knew where he was; when she asked to one of her fellow servants, she learned that there had been some problem with giant man eating wolves near the castle and that the creatures were terrifying the small folk, so the prince decided to take care of the problem himself and had left two days ago to follow the ferocious pack of wolves.

 _No one_ decided it would be easier to give the gift to the Silver Prince outdoors, since the security around him would be weaker in the middle of the falling snows. She was making her way out from the main building when she saw _him_ in the training yard. _Silver hair and violet eyes, he is the Silver Prince._ _Wasn´t he chasing after the pack of wolves?_ She stopped one of the maids and asked her about it.

“Wasn´t the prince supposed to be taking care of the man eating wolves?” She offered innocently.

“Where have you been lately? We have two princes now, well, we call the new one _prince_ but he rarely acts like part of the Royal family.”

“So this _new_ prince is the one who is chasing the wolves?”

“Uhuh, he came along with a wildling lady and a huge wolf of his own around four days ago.” The maid was smiling, proud that she knew something _no one_ didn´t. “At first no one believed he was son of prince Rhaegar but when he rode the green dragon he gained everyone’s respect. The Dragon Queen doesn´t like him because he is a bastard but most of the castle agrees he is very kind and handsome, not like his brother but in his own way; he isn´t that comely but he is well liked among the knights, the servants and the free folk.” The maid was out of breath by the time she finished the story. _It took me more than expected to get here; I didn’t hear about this in the town._ The maid was now blabbering tales about the raven haired, archer wildling girl and her alleged relationship with the bastard prince but _no one_ wasn’t listening anymore; she now knew that her target was in the castle, so she had to begin her preparations.

Before returning to the main building she regarded one last look to her target. He had just finished his sword training session, his silver locks sticking to his forehead due to the sweat; he was japing with one of the members of the royal guard, when a young woman approached him with a towel. The Silver Prince smiled widely and thanked her; he was blushing when he took the towel from her hands. No one recognized the woman as the wildling girl because of her raven hair and the huge black bow she was carrying. _It seems it is not the bastard prince who has something going on with the wildling girl but the Silver Prince. Good grief, I hope he gets to fuck her at least one time before receiving the gift._

Right now, _no one_ was standing in the middle of the great hall of Storm´s End castle with a jar of wine in her hands and every time a Lord asked for his cup to be refilled she moved graciously towards him and served him more wine. She was doing her best to contain herself and not slapping one of them when a drunk Lord or knight tried to catch her wrist to bring her closer or touch her ass; it was disgusting but _no one_ had to keep up with the act of the good servant in order to avoid unwanted attention.

 _No one_ hadn´t been allowed to serve the prince directly but that gave her more time to explore the castle and figure out the best way to perform her task. She had been watching for five days now, learning the guard patterns, the shift changes and the prince´s habits and had decided _this_ would be the night she would give him the gift. She had found out that his room was in the fifth floor of the main tower and that he spent most of his time with the wildling girl that the soldiers had nicknamed as the Winter Maiden. _She is not really a maiden, since she spends every night with the Silver Prince; she must be his mistress._ The guards didn´t stand in front of the door but were positioned at the end of the hallway. _No one_ thought the security was weak; they should have put someone guarding the door, but maybe it was arranged that way to give the prince and his companion some privacy.

 _No one_ reviewed every trace of information she had obtained and repeated her plan over and over again while she continued playing the role of Ella, the serving girl. He watched the Silver Prince as he ate dinner with the Dragon Queen and his grumpy Hand; he was smiling his beautiful foolish smile as he always did, unaware that he would receive the gift that night. He talked about some land redistribution with one of the lords and danced with some minor ladys that made great efforts to gain his favor. _Fools, isn´t it obvious that he isn´t properly looking at them? He only has eyes for the Maiden._ No one realized the Winter Maiden wasn´t there, in fact she had never attended dinner during the time she had been observing, perhaps because it would be considered inappropriate or maybe she was preparing herself to receive the prince; it wasn´t important.

When the tedious dinner finally ended, _no one_ rushed to complete his assignments in the kitchen; when she finished she ran to the little chamber she had been using and changed her annoying serving dress for and easer to move in attire composed of breeches and a tunic. After adjusting her dark cloak, she retrieved the poison impregnated daggers she had prepared for the mission. She then waited for the right moment to step out, that moment when the huge castle fell completely in silence and darkness. She made her way through the place until she reached the main tower of the main building; _no one_ moved as quickly and silently as she could avoiding the guards who had been positioned in each floor. She made it to the third floor easily but she had to wait until the shift change to climb to the next floor; there she had to wait again until one of the guards moved to stretch his legs.

When she finally reached the fifth floor she peaked from the beginning of the hallway and saw the two guards were boringly speaking in hushed voices too far from the prince´s room.

“I am telling you the Dragon Queen wants him dead, which is why she sent him to deal with those beasts. She can´t do it directly or the Silver Prince would go against her. She even sent the dwarf with him expecting to get rid of him as well.” The older one commented.

“Wasn´t she looking for the third dragon head? The boy, bastard or not was able to ride the dragon. What´s her problem?” The young guard asked.

“Some say it is because of his mother but I think she doesn´t want more rivals to claim the Throne. I think she is crazy, they are both her kin.”

“Don´t say that loud again or she will burn you. But I have to admit I hope the one who sits in the throne is the Silver Prince or even the bastard, otherwise she would burn the whole Realm to ashes if someone manages to insult her. She is the Mad King´s daughter after all.” The younger one sounded scared.

“Whatever, this is so boring. I wish we could get near the door to know what is it they do every night; I bet the prince is truly fucking her, no matter how hard he tries to deny it.” The older man sounded interested now.

“She must be good, since she has both princes hanging from her little finger.” They laughed together.

 _No one_ had to wait for another hour until they fell asleep. _How incompetent; it is not like they could have saved him from me but they could have delayed me._ She walked to the door and opened it carefully; there was a dim light produced by a candle illuminating the huge room. _No one_ entered and closed the door as silently as she had opened it; she walked to the bed and saw him sleeping curled into something, more likely the wildling girl who was covered beneath the bed sheets. _Silver hair and violet eyes; he is handsome, almost beautiful._ He was sleeping soundly, unaware of _no one´s_ presence.

 _No one_ drew the dagger from its hiding place and raised her hand to deliver the fatal blow to the Silver Prince but when she was about to lower the dagger she couldn´t. It took her a second to realize her sleeve had been nailed to the wall by an arrow. _What is this?_ She turned her head and saw the Winter Maiden standing by the door, the bow in her hand approaching her. _Stupid, she was not his mistress but his guard and a good one. That is why there were no soldiers positioned near the door._ She thought as she quickly changed the dagger to the other hand to complete the action but the other woman was already over her holding her wrist and the prince had woken up. He was sleepy but as he drank in the scene his eyes widened and he tried to get up.

“Don´t, lay down or she will hurt you.” The Maiden shot him without getting her eyes off _no one._ _No one_ released her sleeve from the arrow and drew a second dagger. The prince had disobeyed the order and it was easier for her to reach him, so she tried to slash him again. The Maiden moved fast and pushed him back but _no one_ had managed to scratch the back of his hand. _That is more than enough; the poison will do the work. I must get out of here._ The other woman cursed and shouted to the prince.

“I told you to lay down. Don´t move or I will hit you.” This time she had turned to the prince, so _no one_ attacked her with the dagger but she was fast and dodged it easily. _No one_ kept throwing attacks but the Maiden was a true wildling and fought back, blocking her attacks with the bow; they continued like that for a while until the Maiden managed to punch her hard in the stomach; it took her half a second to recover the air but it had been more than enough time for the Maiden to take her down, disarm her and tie her making _no one_ unable to move. _She is good, maybe she even knew I was coming._ The guards burst into the room and stared at the scene wordless. She made _no one_ stand up and gave them orders.

“Stop staring at me like that. How did you allow her to enter?” She was furious and the guards were about to wet their pants.

“My apologies, my lady, we…” The Maiden didn´t let the older guard finish.

“Whatever, I will take her myself to the dungeons, so one of you go and fetch Connington; tell him to find me there and don´t utter a word about this to anyone else.” The older guard ran out of the room as fast as he could. “And you, take the prince to the master to treat the wound.” The prince had recovered his voice by then and spoke.

“It is no big deal, just a scratch.” He smiled at her but she shot him a killing look and he was out of words once more.

“I told you to lay down, idiot. _This_ is a faceless assassin.” She said shaking _no one_ in front of the pale prince. “The dagger was surely impregnated with poison; you need to see the master, now.” The prince nodded like an idiot and followed the younger guard. The Maiden dragged her through the castle until they reached the underground dungeons where the grumpy hand was already waiting for them. _She is smart but it won´t save the Silver Prince; even if the master finds out which kind of poison I used he won´t be able to produce a counter measure to it._

“What the hell happened?” The hand was about to explode.

“Your shitty guards fell asleep and we were attacked by a faceless assassin. She scratched Aegon with a poisoned dagger, so I sent him to the master.” She answered as she threw _no one_ to the floor.

“Why haven´t you killed her yet? She is dangerous alive.” The Hand was shouting.

“If you think it is that easy, you are a fool. She surely used a rare poison; we need her to tell us what it was and how to treat it. I already sent someone to look for her room and retrieve her belongings.” She told him calmly.

“Her room? You just said she was a faceless assassin.” The man was clearly confused.

“Seven hells! You didn´t even knew she has been working here for days. I can´t believe it.” She turned from the man to face _no one_. “What do you want for telling us how to save the Prince?” _No one_ smiled.

“Why would I tell you how to ruin my mission?”

“I would give you whatever you want.” That prompted _no one_ to laugh hard.

“I need nothing from you. I am _no one_ and _no one_ needs _anything_. Do as you please.” Now the Maiden looked as desperate and pale as the Hand.

“I told you it was useless.” The Hand said; the wildling was thinking hard.

“There must be a way. Perhaps some time without food will make her speak.” They left her there, alone in the shadows.

 _No one_ passed five days without food, the guards would only give her some water and killing stares. She was sure they all wanted to beat her, rape her and kill her for what she had done to their beloved Silver Prince but the Winter Maiden had prohibited them to get near her. The Winter Maiden would come every day to ask whether she would cooperate or not; she grew more and more desperate with every passing day but _no one_ hadn´t utter a word since the first day. _He must be dying because of the fever; he won´t last much longer._

By overhearing the guards she learned that they were still searching her room; that the Silver Prince got worse each second and they were afraid of the Dragon Queen taking control of the two armies. Today she heard that the other prince had returned from his mission in the woods and that since then he spent every second in his brother´s room, taking care of him. _How sweet, at least he came in time to say goodbye. Perhaps he will kill me himself when his brother dies._ She was considering this when the Winter Maiden entered for her daily visit; for the first time since _no one_ met her, she seemed tired. This time she didn´t ask her the question and just stood in front of _no one_ , watching her. After some time, the Hand appeared followed by a guard who was carrying _no one’s_ stuff.

“We finally found her belongings and Haldon examined the substances she was carrying; she had a lot of different things, each more dangerous than the previous one,” he sighed, “He said he has no idea of how to counter measure the poison but she might be able to. We are running out of time, so no matter what you consider correct…” His voice was about to break and the Winter Maiden interrupted him.

“We are not going to torture her; even if she is one of them she is merely a kid. Have you ever thought what made her become one of them?” She almost sounded sad.

“I don´t give a damn about her backstory! Aegon is going to die!” She sighed.

“Let me take a look at her belongings, I might be able to figure out something.”

“Haldon couldn´t and you are just a wildling.” The Hand said but he passed the stuff to the Winter Maiden. She looked everything carefully and when she saw the thin blade the kind man had given her before she boarded the ship, her eyes went wide.

“What is this?” The Winter Maiden asked and for some reason, _no one_ decided to answer this time.

“A needle.” She gave the same answer the kind man had given her. The Winter Maiden looked between _no one_ and the blade with her mouth open.

“Who are you?”

“ _No one._ ” She took _no one´s_ shoulders and looked into her eyes.

“Show me your true face. Do it! If you are going to die you can at least do it with your original face.”

“What are you doing? You are wasting precious time.” The Hand took the Maiden´s arm trying to separate her from _no one_ but she didn´t let her go. _No one_ was getting tired, so she decided to do it. _If I show them, they might kill me already._

“Fine. Step back.” _No one_ focused to find her true face; it had been a long, long time since she last used her own face so it was a bit difficult but she found it. The Hand´s face was full of fear and the Maiden was completely stunned.

“You are Arya Stark.” The Maiden stated. _No one_ was about to tell her she was _no one_ but the sound of the name made her feel dizzy. Her head unleashed a bunch of memories of wolves, a place full of snow and the smell of pines and other trees; a white tree with a red face. There were also people which faces she could not remember clearly but their images made her feel an immeasurable sadness; there was a beautiful woman with auburn hair trying to brush her wild hair, two boys were chasing after her near a pond in the woods, a beautiful girl eating lemon cakes, two young men practicing with swords smiling at her and a man with a gentle smile hugging her with great tenderness. Her head hurt and she was about to pass out. Then the persons from her memories were all taken away by a huge lion; there were no more smiles or hugs; just blood, a lot of blood, and the place was no longer surrounded by snow but fire. She ran away until the fire was gone and when she returned to the burnt place everything was dead, everybody was dead. She approached a corpse dressed in black and the sadness was replaced with rage and a void she would never be able to fill. She was going to leave the place when the black dressed corpse hold her hand and brought her nearer. _“Stick them with the pointy end.”_ The corpse delivered with a kind voice and she heard cries; she was crying.

“No, I am _no one_. I must be _no one_. Arya Stark is no more; there is no place for her in this world anymore.” She was shouting; she had worked so hard to become _no one_ and forget she ever had a family because it was too painful to live with the void inside her. Being _no one_ was easier than being Arya Stark, and now they have taken her easy life away from her.

“Arya, look at me. You are Arya Stark. Tell me how to save the prince and I will give you have been looking for. I will return you to your family.” The Maiden told her in a gentle voice.

“You are lying, I have no family left; they are all dead. Everyone promised me they would take me to my family and they all lied.”

“If I proof I am telling the truth, will you tell me?” Arya laughed hysterically.

“I dare you.” The Maiden turned to the confused guard.

“Bring the prince immediately, don´t tell him a word about this, just bring him.”

“Which prince?”

“The one who is not dying, you idiot!” The Hand had recovered his voice. The guard ran as fast as he could. The Maiden approached Arya and began to untie her. “What are you doing? She is dangerous.” The Hand tried to stop her.

“She is not a Faceless Assassin anymore, and she will cooperate once _he_ comes.” She turned to Arya and gave her a sad smile. “I am sorry but we were desperate; we couldn´t allow the prince to die.” Arya didn´t understand a single thing. _Well, he is going to die because there is no way you can give my family back._ She was too weak and tired to try an escape so even when she was untied she didn´t try anything.

There were noises in the dungeons, someone was coming. “Wait here a second.” The Maiden stood up to receive the other prince. Arya heard their hushed voices clearly. “I am really sorry. I didn´t realize who she was until now; she was wearing another face. I know this is going to be difficult for the both of you but you need to convince her to help Aegon.” Her tone was apologetic.

“Are you saying the assassin is someone I know?” The Princes´s voice made Arya´s heart shrink and they kept approaching.

“Please try to keep calm.” Those were her last words to the prince. The prince stepped into her cell cautiously covered in shadows. When he kneeled in front of Arya, her mind went blank; steel gray stared at steel gray, none of them able to believe what they were seeing.

“Arya?” His voice broke and he threw his arms around her slim figure burying his face in her hair; she felt warm tears soaking her neck but she couldn´t discern whose tears they were. The long contained pain and sadness overflowed and she cried harder than she ever had, even if it made her angry to be so weak. “I thought you were gone.”

“I thought the same; I thought I was alone. I have missed you so much. I… you are the other prince?” Realization hit her when she remembered how the Maiden had referred to Jon and she felt fear. The Maiden approached and put a hand on his shoulder. Jon turned to her and nodded as he wiped his tears.

“Arya, I will take you out of here and explain everything properly but first you have to tell us how to save Aegon.” She felt even weaker than before and when she stood up, her knees were shaking but she managed to reach her stuff. She found the two vials and gave them to the Maiden. She took them with her shaky hands.

“The white one is to apply in the wound and the yellow powder is for him to drink with some water.” She said wiping her tears with her dirty sleeve.

“Is this really an antidote? Why would you carry an antidote for a poison you would use to kill?” The Hand gave her a distrustful look. Even she was about to pass out because of the hunger and the impression, she held her chin high and retorted to him.

“Because I could have hurt myself with the dagger and I would have needed it. It was a precaution.” The Hand snorted and faced Jon.

“Take her to your room and be sure Daenerys doesn´t see her; one Stark is enough for her to handle. I will send you maids to attend her. Gods, she looks just like her.” _I look just like whom?_ His tone was full of disdain. Jon nodded and conducted her out of the dungeons. At some point the Maiden had disappeared, more likely to save the Silver prince. Thinking about the prince made her remember people referred to Jon as the other prince; she wanted to ask but Jon was moving as fast as he could to avoid unwanted encounters, so she decided to wait until they were alone.

Jon took her through the castle and when they reached the door, she realized they were in the room just next to where she had attacked the prince the other night. The next door was heavily guarded this time and apparently only the Maiden was allowed to enter because there were a bunch of lords waiting for some news.  They entered the room and some maids arrived after them with hot water and food.

“I will stay outside until you are done bathing and eating.” He gave her hand a light reassuring squeeze and then directed to the maids. “No one aside from me or Cyara is allowed to enter this room, not even Queen Daenerys or Connington, understood? I will go to check on Aegon and come back right away.”

“Yes, my prince.” The two maids answered in unison. Arya wanted to ask Jon to stay, she was scared he would not come back but when she saw his face, it was full of consternation. _He is also worried for the Silver Prince._ She stood still while the maids undressed her, helped her into the hot water, rubbed her back and made a useless effort to untangle her mane. They gave her a soft night gown and served her the food; Arya had thought she would be too shocked for eating but she found herself with appetite. When she was done, Jon had already returned and dismissed the maids. He looked doubtful but he sat beside her in the bed and awkwardly mussed her hair.

“Arya… How did you end as a member of the Faceless Men? Is there where you have been since father died?” His voice was tired and solemn; it carried something that reminded her so much of Ned Stark and their talk about the dangers of King’s Landing. She felt a great shame for what she had been doing, since she left that place. _He will hate me if I tell him of all the persons I have killed. Does he hate me for hurting the Silver prince?_  The tears were gathering in her eyes once more; she wanted to go back to the moment they departed and ask him to stay by her side, change the past but it was a stupid thought.

“I… I am so sorry I didn´t know he was someone important to you; I didn´t even remember who I was. Please forgive me… don´t hate me, please.” She stopped herself to avoid crying once more.

“I could never hate you, Arya. I am happy that you are here but I need to know where you have been and if you have been hurt; I want to protect you but I don´t know how. Up until now I thought you were married to Ramsay Bolton or worse and felt ashamed for not being able to do anything to help.” He was shaking hard. Arya took a deep breath and stared into the void.

“I was going to the North with Yoren disguised as a boy, but the Lannister soldiers killed him and I became a prisoner in Harrenhal. I escaped Harrenhal with two friends but we were captured by the Brotherhood without banners and they both abandoned me to join them; the men from the brotherhood wanted to take me to Robb and ask for money in Riverrrun but I was taken by the Hound who wanted the money for himself. We made it to the Twins during the … th… the Red Wedding so we had to go back. The Hound was planning to take me to the Eiry with aunt Lysa but we were attacked and he died because of the wounds. I wanted to go to the Wall but there was no way I could get there alone. I had nowhere else to go so I boarded a ship to Braavos where I became an acolyte from the House of Black and White and was assigned this mission.” It was the simplest way to put it and she had omitted the murders and the training but maybe it would be enough for Jon. A faint smile appeared in his face.

“Seems you got more adventure than you ever imagined you would have. You are amazing, if I had been in your position I would have died right away. Did someone hurt you? Did someone..?” He didn´t finish the question but Arya wasn´t stupid and she understood perfectly what he was asking.

“No one touched me, I am fine. I guess I was always very lucky.” He looked relieved and she felt a struck of love for him and his consternation.

“We have been separated for too long but I swear I will take care of you from now on.” He was resolved.

“I think I will be the one taking care of you and that prince…” She had arrived to the point she was scared of. “How come you are a prince?” She tried to sound amused.

“My parents were Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.” That shattered her world into pieces; she wanted to shout and run away from there. _He is not my brother, but he is a brother to the Silver Prince. I am alone after all._ As if he had read her mind, he took her hand and held it firmly. She told her how he had discovered the truth and how he met Aegon and the Dragons; he told her about his plans to defend the North from those magic creatures. She knew she should be concerned about those Others and the White Walkers but she was more concerned with the fact that he was her cousin and not her brother.

“Does this mean I am no longer your _little sister_?” She lowered her face to hide her falling tears. He mussed her hair again, this time more naturally.

“Cyara told me we tend overestimate blood and I think she is right. Aegon is my brother and I care for him but you will always be my _little sister_ and the most important person in my life.” That made her heart rate calm a bit; that was the only thing she cared for.

“Cyara is the name of the Winter Maiden?” He laughed at the comment.

“She doesn´t like the nickname but the some people keep calling her that way, yes.” Someone knocked the door lightly and Jon didn´t even asked who it was before opening it. “Speak of the devil…” Cyara gave him a sad smile and then regarded Arya.

“I am sorry for what I did to you; I never expected you to be who you are.” Arya had already decided she liked her.

“I am sorry for attacking your Silver Prince. You are very skilled I had never found someone able to stop me.” She smiled back.

“He is not my prince. I serve your brother; that was an especial occasion.” The smile faded. “I have to talk to you about something serious, so sit again Jon.” When they were all seated she continued. “Connington has already told Daenerys and she is furious, she wants to sentence Arya for attempting something against Aegon´s life. Aegon is getting better but he won´t be able to help this time; I am doing everything I can and Tyrion said he would help as much as possible but she doesn´t even want to grant Arya a trial.” _One of the Lannisters is here. “_ Anyway, even if we get a chance it would be a trial by combat but as a member of the Royal family you can´t take part.”

“What?! I have to defend Arya!”

“And that would make you a traitor. You have nothing to worry though, I will defend her in your place.”

“What if she is as mad as her father and she chooses a Dragon as her champion.” Arya was getting worried.

“As his Hand, Connington should be the one to choose Aegon´s champion; he doesn´t like you but he thinks they can use you to get the North´s loyalty and you saved his life after all. But if they really choose a dragon… I think the bards will have to write a song called The Dragon and the Winter Maiden.” She said in a calm confident tone; Jon wasn´t so convinced.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I made you a promise when we met and I will keep it.” She paused a moment. “Can you guard the door tonight? I need to watch Daenerys closely.” Jon nodded and she exited the room without another word.

“She is good.” Arya ventured.

“She is one of the few persons we can trust, if not the only one.” He shared with her.

Arya leaned in the pillows and waited for sleep as Jon held her hand. For the first time, since she left Winterfell she felt like she was at home. _Queen Cersei, Ser Meryn, Ser Illyn, the Freys, the Boltons._ Her old pray came out of nowhere. _Valar morghulis. The Dragon Queen can wait until tomorrow. For now, I am happy that I am Arya Stark once more._ She added; she hadn´t felt happiness in a long while. The hole in her chest didn´t seem so big anymore.


	6. New Allies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, Daenerys is crazy. But please, just wait a little bit longer; she won't remain that way.
> 
> This chapter was especially difficult; I wasn't very sure of how I should manage the trial. I hope it is not so bad.

The Dragon Queen and the Winter Maiden didn´t get along at all. Their first meeting was disastrous, of course, but it only got worse with the time. At the beginning, most of the hate came from Queen Daenerys since the other girl didn´t seem to hold any grudge against her, but the beautiful Queen had made a habit of becoming a hindrance to the Maiden and her Prince. Jon Snow, now Targaryen didn´t pay any attention to the insults but even with her ever calm attitude, after a moon the Winter Maiden was reaching her limit. The Maiden never spoke out of turn but Tyrion could see her desire to slap the Dragon Queen whenever she said anything against Jon. 

The Silver Prince favored the odd pair and the court followed him; most of the Lords and Ladys were curious to know the lost prince and, why not? Maybe get a Royal marriage for their houses, even if he wasn´t the prince who would become King. Most of the members in the fragile alliance that had been stablished couldn´t understand the strain between the two women, but Tyrion was not one of them. It was obvious that the Queen was jealous of the attention she received from Aegon and she felt like she was losing to a _wildling whore_ , as she used to call the Maiden, quite a great insult. She now was regretting her rejection towards the marriage offer and Aegon didn´t seem to be interested in it anymore. Tyrion remembered he once told the prince that he was going to beg to his aunt for the power of the Dragons, but the one begging now was the Queen; she could have the control over the dragons, which was not completely true now, but Aegon was loved by the subjects and for the sake of ruling, he was better positioned than Daenerys who was feared instead of loved and respected.

On the other hand, the Maiden normally didn´t care for Daenerys until the Queen decided to offend Jon. There had been a rumor about the Maiden getting involved with the Silver Prince while Tyrion and Jon were out chasing wolves but it was just that, a rumor. Aegon was clearly infatuated with her but Tyrion had been observing the Maiden´s behavior and he had realized that if she held any especial affection towards a Prince, it was not for Aegon, but Jon; she felt something especial for him and was compelled to defend him at all costs, so any act against him made her angry.

The situation got worst when Arya Stark appeared out of nowhere as a Faceless Assassin and almost murdered the Silver Prince, giving the Dragon Queen the perfect excuse to declare the Starks a menace to the Targaryen Dynasty.

The Queen wanted to burn the girl right away and the Maiden, thinking of the best for her prince opposed her. After some discussion and the right words pronounced in front of the right Lords at the right time, she managed to get a trial. There was nothing much to say; Arya Stark couldn´t deny she had attempted to murder the future King, their only defense was the fact that she had been brainwashed and that she was acting merely as a puppet of the House of Black and White.  If anything, the trial would only be held to decide if Arya Stark would be granted a trial by combat.

Tyrion was positively amused by the young Stark girl; most of Westeros had considered her dead, married with a Bolton bastard and other crazy stories; becoming a member of an ancient, fearsome organization like the Faceless Men was never one of them. _They all looked only at Sansa; she was the pretty one and a good marriage prospect; the younger sister discarded as useless immediately. Who would have thought that the little one would hold this kind of power and knowledge one day?_

He stopped before the door and glanced at the next room crowded with guards before knocking. _Once I enter; I will declare myself against the Dragon Queen. Is this the right thing to do? Even Mormont got killed when he returned to her._ He paused a second. _Well, it is not like she estimates me that much; she only wants the Western lands from me. Having a Stark indebted to me might be useful in the future._ He knocked and was received by the Winter Maiden and smiled at her.

“Good morning Lady Cyara. May I come in?” She sighed a heavy breath carrying the worries of a person three times her age.

“Will you ever stop calling me that?”

“I will stop once you tell me who you really are, but maybe then I will discover you to be a real Lady and will have to keep calling you that way.” He answered as she directed him into the solar.

“Again with that thing. I would love to play with you, Lord Tyrion, but we have a trial to prepare.” She paused just a second. “I´ll tell you what; if we save Arya, I will answer one of your questions, no matter what it is.”

“We have a deal, Lady Cyara.” He laughed. He found the Stark siblings together in the solar and prepared for the hate of the young lady, but surprisingly enough she just looked at him curiously.

“So, what will we do?” Jon Snow was worried. He sat with them and served himself some wine.

“I will be honest to you. Your sister won´t be spared with a conventional trial, we will have to let the gods decide. And I have some bad news for you; the dornish will arrive three days from now and the trial will be postponed until they are here. The Queen thinks they will support her in this because Aegon is related to them by blood; I think it is highly possible for them to select a dornish champion for the prince. Dornish men are lethal.” He added. _One of them almost killed the Mountain; idiot, he had already won but he had to hear the fucking truth from the Mountain and his filthy mouth._ Even now, the thought made him angry.

“Do you really think they will support the Queen? She burnt Quentyn Martell when she was in Meeren.” Arya Stark told him and made him blink at her.

“How do you know that?” No one in Westeros was supposed to know Quentyn Martell had visited Daenerys, much less that he was roasted by Rhaegal. He doubted Prince Doran had uttered a word about that matter.

“I know lots of things.” She shrugged. For someone who could be sentenced to death she was awfully calm. _She was a faceless assassin; she surely has gone through worse._ He reminded himself. “And I also heard they are not so convinced that the Silver Prince is truly the son of Princess Elia Martell.” She offered nonchalantly. _I have to be careful with this one._

“Let´s consider the worst case scenario. They support Daenerys and offer a dornish champion.”

“Wouldn´t the worst case scenario be Daenerys choosing a Dragon as champion?”  Her question was almost innocent, after all she was a twelve year old girl, or maybe she was faking it; Tyrion had no way to be sure.

“That would make her look as the reincarnation of the Mad King. She wouldn´t risk it that way, the Lords and the free folk fear her enough as it is. Have you considered a champion for yourself? Your brother won´t do, it will give the impression that he wanted Aegon dead.”

“The Queen is the one that wants the prince dead. He stands in the middle of her claim; she is just faking her concern.” She said as if she was commenting the weather. _So she understands the game; she has a great mind for this and good instincts but she is too young and wild. She will get herself killed by the Queen. Connington doesn´t like her either but for different reasons._

“Those are dangerous words, Arya. Truth or not, don’t dare to say it during the trial or she will burn you for real.” Cyara stated. _At least the Maiden has enough common sense for the three of them; maybe for the four of us._ Tyrion had a pretty big mouth of his own and somehow Jon’s temperament had become more explosive than it was when they met the first time. “We will discuss that once you have been spared; Aegon must be protected.”

“So, about the champion…” Tyrion continued.

“I can fight.” Arya Stark said proudly.

“This is not as sneaking into a castle to murder someone, you will have to face the champion directly and you are too small. I will be your champion and that´s it.” She turned to face Tyrion. “ Wouldn´t they have to choose a royal guard as their champion? Barristan Selmy, for example.” Tyrion had considered that as well.

“They haven´t selected the seven knights yet. They won´t risk to loose such a precious knight as Ser Barristan or the loyal Rolly.” He hoped it to be true; she simply nodded.

“Is there something I should know about the dornish fighting skills?” Cyara asked Tyrion.

“They prefer spears over swords because they give more distance to move. They could also select one of the unsullied but they prefer spears as well. What are you planning to use?” She stood up and brought the black bow she always carried. Just then, seeing it closer; Tyrion realized the bow was made of dragon bone, inlayed with Valyrian steel, the black string was attached to the base of the sharp Valyrian steel blades at the extremes of the bow. It was a unique item; he had never seen something like it before. _You can keep telling you are a wildling. No wildling would carry such a weapon._ He set his thoughts aside and focused on the trial issue. “The bow? I am not sure; you would get stabbed before putting an arrow into it.”

“It is more than a bow.” She lifted the bow, released the string and now it was something like a curved spear, a unique weapon indeed.

“Very well, I can’t wait to see that inaction.” He turned to the young Stark girl. “My suggestion is that you accept you tried to kill him but explain it was because you were brainwashed by the Faceless Assassins. That you were suffering so much for what happened to your family that you forgot who you are and were following the orders of the higher ranks. Shedding some tears would be great.”

“Telling the truth never helped my family.” Arya Stark was expressionless. _She is not a little girl anymore; there is wisdom in her eyes._

“Your truth will move some hearts and there is no way for you to deny what you did. It won´t spare you, true, but will help to gain some lords to sympathize with your cause; we need that to get the trial by combat. Once we get there we have to rely on our dear Maiden. Oh, and I exhort you to pledge loyalty to the Targaryens in the name of the North during the trial. ”

“I won´t, the Dragon Queen wanted to kill Jon.” A hint on anger in her face appeared for an instant.

“I thought you were smarter than that, at this rate you should know how to play the game. If you don´t enjoy Daenerys you can think of the Silver Prince while swearing your loyalty or even your brother, since he is a Targaryen as well.” He thought she would be angry at the last part but she just nodded. _At least she is cooperating; we might get out of this one._

“Why are you helping me?” She was biting her lip. “I thought you were all … bad.”

_Will my dearest family ever stop bringing me undeserved enemies?_

“I was never like my father or siblings; they never liked me that much.” He thought of Jaime for the first time since he came back to Westeros; there was no way to go back. “Jon is my friend and you are his sister.” She looked at him warily.

“Did you help Sansa as well?” He was surprised by the question.

“I tried but your sister never let me. She left the capital without saying a word: I don´t know where she is or how she got out of there.” He had felt angry with her for abandoning him with the accusations, but with the time he realized someone must had taken her away. She was too weak to do anything for herself and survive alone. _So different from her little sister who made her way through danger without help._ She just nodded once more. “I have one last advice for you: Don´t let them make you angry, don´t listen to their insults or your temper will get yourself and the rest of us in trouble.” She gave him a wolfish smile.

“They showed me how to pretend.” Tyrion didn´t need to ask _who_ showed her and felt a sudden fear towards the young Lady.

When the fatal day came he was wandering through the castle; he had nothing to do until the trial and even if he didn´t want to admit it he was growing nervous. When the Dragon Queen heard he had been helping Arya Stark; he was summoned to her royal chambers.

 _“Lord Lannister, I thought you were loyal to me. I am very hurt by your actions.”_ He hated it when she played the innocent girl.

_“I am loyal to **all** the Targaryens. I want to help Arya Stark because I think she is more useful alive. She could gain the North for you.”_

_“Is that so? Then you might consider yourself part of their group from now on. You will be of better use for me that way.”_ With those words she had declared him as her enemy. He was expecting it but it was always dangerous to deal with the Queen´s temper. He felt the need of fresh air and walked to the yard. When he was reaching his the entrance he heard the castle servants were in a rush.

 _The dornish arrived earlier than I had predicted._  A single glance at the banners was enough to make the uneasiness return. _Daenerys was not just waiting for the dornish; she called the Greyjoys to attend the trial._

“I thought we were expecting the dornish…” Cyara appeared out of nowhere.

“I didn´t think she would summon the Greyjoys; they don´t like Aegon, so she asked them to remain in the ships.”

“They don´t like him?”

“Victarion Greyjoy wants the Queen for himself.”

“And Aegon _wanted_ to marry her. Anyway, Daenerys will only accept the sell sword in her bed…” Tyrion noted she had made a point of never calling her Queen.

“How do you know that?”

“Arya told me. Does this complicate things for us?”

_Of course she knew. I have to remember asking her where the whores go._

“Not at all; she only wants to intimidate us.” She nodded and stood by his side as a second party made its way through the castle. _These are the ones we should take care of._ Three women were leading the column; Tyrion recognized them from a previous visit. _Princess Arianne, Obara and Elia Sand._ The first time they had come to question Aegon and Connington to determine if he was really Princess Elia’s son but returned to Dorne without a word.  Tyrion had expected to be attacked due to the incident with the _Red Viper_ but none of them mentioned the subject whenever they talked. _Their return must mean they have accepted Aegon._

They dismounted as far from the Greyjoys as possible. Princess Arianne saw him and moved towards him followed by her cousins. Obara Sand was wearing her fearsome expression and Elia was almost smiling. Tyrion tried to remain as calm as his body allowed him to. When they reached his position the princess was the first to greet him.

“Lord Tyrion, what a pleasure to see you again.” Arianne Martell always behaved as the princess she was. The other two just nodded at him.

“The pleasure is mine, princess.”

“And your companion is?” The princess asked when she noticed Cyara.

“She is Lady Cyara. Prince Jon’s personal guard.”

“It is an honor to meet the Princess of Dorne and her cousins.” She gave them a small bow.

“So this is the troublesome _wildling whore_ Daenerys is so eager to get rid of?” Obara Sand offered with a snort. “She is too pretty to cause trouble.” She laughed.

_So the Queen informed them of her fears and expectations; she really wants the dornish support._

“You are going to defend the girl who tried to kill my cousin.” The princess told to Cyara.

“I am going to defend her but I don´t mean any harm towards Prince Aegon.  Even I am Jon’s sworn sword; I would also give my life to protect the future King… I did all that was in my power to save him. Everything will be clarified after the trial.” She had chosen her words carefully.

“And what about Queen Daenerys, would you give your life to protect her as well?” That was a dangerous question; if they had allied with the Dragon Queen, they could use her answer as a proof of treason against the crown.

“She tried to burn _my_ prince and she wants to burn his cousin. I can’t trust her, so I haven’t sworn anything to the _princess._ ” She was looking Arianne Martell directly to the eye. Obara laughed.

“You are the first person I have met who doesn’t refer to her as _Queen._ Aren’t you afraid of her?”

“I have no reason to. She won’t be Queen unless she marries the King.” Cyara said confidently.

Obara approached her and whispered in her ear, “I will tell you something, wildling girl: she burnt _our_ prince and I don’t like her being so close to _our_ King.”Obara stepped back.

“We will decide about Lady Arya after the trial. I will be part of the judges but my men won’t interfere, I can assure you that.” Princess Arianne told them. “I am interested to hear more of your opinion regarding Daenerys Targaryen, Lady Cyara.” She added with a smile before the three women entered the castle.

“I guess we won’t have to worry about the dornish champion anymore.”

“It was a bet, fortunately it went as Arya predicted.” Cyara had recovered some color.

“Does Arya Stark really need our help?”

“Who knows? She is scary from time to time.”

“Tell me…”

“Would you have lunch with us? It might be the last.” She told him with a smile.

“I thought you were planning to win the combat or is that you don’t want to answer my question that badly?” She shook her head as they walked into the castle.

The meal went smoothly, almost cheerful. Now, Arya was sharing with them her experiences during the time she spent at Braavos and all the interesting people she had met there, even the whores. At first Jon looked scandalized at the perspective of his young sister spending time among criminals and such, but after a while he started to enjoy the way she told her stories. _There is something she is not telling us._ Tyrion knew very well there was no way her time in the House of Black and White had been that calm.

The knock in the door broke the atmosphere and the nice feeling was replaced by distress. Cyara received Ser Barristan Selmy who announced the time had come. They were conducted to the Great Hall where the court had gathered. The footstool was occupied by Arianne Martell and Jon Connington. When they took their assigned place, the little herald started the presentation and the Dragon Queen entered beautiful as ever; she was wearing her white lion cloak, a present from her first husband.

“Bow to receive Daenerys Stomborn, first of her name, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Queen of the andals and the rohynar and the first men, protector of the Realm and Mother of Dragons.  When they straightened Arya was mumbling something.

“I think she forgot to add Goddess of the World.” She noticed Tyrion had heard her and added. “I am not very fond of Queens.”

“My sweet sister doing, I guess.” She almost smiled.

The Queen took her position and talked to the subjects. “Lords, Ladys and Knights we are here to judge a crime against our King, against the Realm and you are here to witness justice to be delivered. Arya Stark, step forward to face your crimes.”

The Stark girl raised her chin and walked to the center of the room.

“Do you know why you are here?” Connington asked.

“I do, Lord Hand. I almost murdered our future King.”

There were whispers everywhere; some of them referring to treason or faceless assassins, even Lyanna Stark’s name was pronounced.

“You confess you wanted to murder Prince Aegon.” Daenerys Targaryen wanted this to end quickly.

“I said I _almost_ murdered him. I never said I _wanted_ to kill him. I was following orders.”

“Who would order you to kill your rightful King?” Princess Arianne was the one to intervene this time.

“Isn´t it obvious? The bastard is the one who would benefit the most from Aegon´s death.” Arya gave a deep breath before answering the Queen; she was giving it her all to contain her anger.

“Prince Jon had never ordered me anything. And we hadn’t seen each other in years until he returned here  after I wounded the Silver Prince. Besides, there was no way he could have paid the services of the Faceless Men. As I said, I was following orders from the higher ranks; I don’t know who wanted him dead. I cooperated to save his life.”

“Why would you save him after trying to kill him?”  The Princess asked curiously. Arya closed her eyes and made a pained expression.

“When I came here to accomplish this mission I was a mere puppet. I wasn´t thinking for myself; I was just an extension of a big organization. I was _no one_ , but when I met Prince Jon again I recovered my senses, my own will and realized what I was doing was wrong. Prince Aegon is the rightful King and being loyal to him is the right thing to do.

“Why did you become a Faceless Men, Lady Arya?”  Princess Arianne kept questioning the girl.

“I lost my whole family, my place in this world. I had nowhere to go and the pain was too great to deal with. The Faceless Men teach how to forget who you are. Becoming _no one_ was more appealing than dealing with the pain for the rest of my life.” The tears were falling freely from her eyes and her beautiful face held a sad expression that compelled to comfort her. “I know you may think my family deserved what happened to them for following Robert Baratheon during the Rebellion,” she continued turning to the audience, “but the mistakes made by a Stark can be rectified by another. I swear the North will recognize Aegon as the rightful King and pledge loyalty to the Targaryen Dynasty once again.”

“Your brother declared himself King in the North.” Connington couldn’t hide his hate for her.

“He did that because a Lannister was sitting in the throne, one is sitting in the throne right now. When the dragon’s rule is reestablished, the North will bend the knee once again.” The Hall felt silent until Connington spoke again.

“Is there something else you want to say?” Arya Stark shook her head. Connington turned to the Queen and the Princess. “I think is time to end this.” He returned to Arya. “Your influence will make it easier to get the North’s loyalty, but I can´t forgive that you attempted to kill the Prince. The gods shall decide your destiny.”

_Connignton doesn’t want to make a decision. He knows they need the girl but the bad memories get in the way of reason. Deep in his heart, he also wants to see her punished for what Eddard Stark did in Stony Sept._

The Queen suppressed her rage and stepped forward. “You and your family are a threat to the Targaryen. You can’t be trusted and I won´t give you a second chance to be saved. You should burn with the rest of the Stark.” With that said, Arianne Martell would be the one to decide. The Princess stared at Arya Stark for an indeterminable amount of time before speaking.

“I understand how painful is to lose those you love and that it might be easy to forget who you are in the middle of that pain. I experimented something similar when I learnt my brother had died. However, I have no way to confirm if it wasn’t your own will to kill my dear cousin,” she paused. Cyara and Tyrion had to hold Jon to avoid him doing something stupid. The Queen had a beautiful smile on her face until Arianne finished. “The gods will let us know whether you are telling the truth or not. I will grant you the trial by combat.”

Daenerys Targaryen looked as if she had been slapped by Arianne Martell.

“You are going to forgive her, woman? You are too soft.” Victarion Greyjoy spat to the Princess. “I don’t buy her shit, we should kill her right now.” He unsheathed his sword and motioned towards Arya.

“Give another step and I’ll put an arrow in your head.” Cyara was ready to shoot. “The judges have voted, so close your filthy mouth.” Greyjoy stopped.

“The one who decides is the Dragon Queen. I couldn’t care less for that bitch and her opinion.” A strong noise reverberated in the room and Victarion Greyjoy was in his knees with a whip around his neck.

“How dare you to insult my Princess?” Obara Sand came out of nowhere. “You should be kissing her feet.” The Iron born soldiers unsheathed their swords and the dornish did the same.

“ENOUGH!!!!” Connington shouted. “The combat will be held and you will stop this nonsense. Queen Daenerys, ask your subjects to show some respect, the Princess is an honor guest.”

“Please stop.” Daenerys said and Obara released the Greyjoy; the swords were sheathed once again. “Excuse me, my dear friend. Their unwavering loyalty compelled them to act.” The Queen offered as an excuse to Arianne Martell.

“Do you happen to consider your men insulting me an act of loyalty?” The Princess arched a brow and the Queen had to force a smile.

“I want this to end as soon as possible. We will move to the main yard for the combat. Who will be your champion Lady Arya?” She glanced  at Jon and smiled.

_She expects Jon to offer himself. Sorry to disappoint you, my Queen._

“The Winter Maiden has offered to help me.” Arya looked almost innocent.

“I thought you loved Aegon as much as I do, nephew.”

“They are both my family.” Was all Jon managed to answer. Fortunately, Cyara had prepared a better response.

“I am protecting him but I am not his slave. I decided to defend Lady Arya by myself, because that is what I want to do. The Prince didn’t give me orders regarding this matter.” The Queen was running out of resources.

“You are a woman.”

“Then it might be easier for your champion to defend your cause.” Obara laughed at her response and Daenerys face was bright red.

“Ser Barristan…”She started. _No way; she is going to choose him after all._ The knight was old but he had been one of the best swords in the Seven Kingdoms for decades and he was loyal.

“We can’t risk losing such an honorable man in something so foolish, Daenerys.” Connington told her.

“The Royal family must be defended by the royal guard.”

“We will need him to lead the army during the coming battles.”

“It is not like he is going to die, Lord Connington.”

“No, but he could get hurt.”

None of them wanted to relent and the silence fell in the hall once again. The whole court was waiting for them to announce the man that would battle for prince Aegon.

“My Queen, let me give this bitch a lesson. She and her bastard will regret the moment they insulted you.” Victarion Greyjoy said confidently.

“My dearest captain, this is not about them insulting me but to get justice for prince Aegon.” The look the Queen gave to Greyjoy made him frown.

“Of course, please allow me to defend his cause.” He gave a frightening look to Cyara.

 _This is not about Aegon, not even about the Queen anymore. Cyara insulted him and he wants revenge._ During the time they traveled together, Tyrion learnt the captain treated everyone with disdain but he held an especial grudge towards women. It was something about his first and only wife. The Queen regarded Connington to seek for his approval. The Hand looked uncertain but he finally nodded.

“Captain Victarion is one of my most loyal men I have met. He rescued me from the siege in Meeren. I deposit my faith in him to defend my family’s cause.” She even granted him her favor.

The participants and the observers made their way to the main yard. The Queen, Connington and princess Arianne were sitting under the cover of a tent. Jon and Arya were with the rest of the court; Tyrion made his way to them. Jon shared with him a worried look. They had expected the opponent to be a slim fighter, not a huge man. Victarion was strong as a bull; Cyara, wildling or not, looked like a little cat by his side. Arya took his brother´s hand and squeezed it.

“She is fast enough.” Jon gave her a forced smile.

_I can’t tell who he is the most worried for: his sister or the Winter Maiden._

The castle’s septon pronounced his pray to the gods to grant the victory to the warrior who defended the truth and justice. When the man was done, he stepped aside regarding Cyara with a queer look. It was unusual for a woman to take part in a trial by combat. Both champions received their weapons and Tyrion could see the girl giving a deep breath. She always managed to remain calm, no matter the situation. The Queen gave the order and the battle started.

Greyjoy didn’t lose a single second, he charged against her with his full strength. Cyara moved just in time to avoid his sword; none of them was wearing any protection so they were able to move fast. He kept attacking but most of the attacks were dodged or deflected with the bow. Her movements were gracious and precise; she was almost dancing around him. Her eyes never left her opponent but she was not attacking. They danced the steel song for an indeterminable amount of time.

“Stop running away, bitch. You said you wanted to fight, so fight!” Victarion Greyjoy shouted; he was finally getting impatient.

His shout was like a signal to Cyara, because just after that she started to direct the blades towards the man. He deflected the attacks with his sword and she speeded up her movements; the bow moved without fail as an extension of her.  She hit his sword hand and Victarion Greyjoy dropped the sword; that got the man out of balance and she managed to make him trip over with the bow. In a second she was over him, pointing one of the blades at the end of the bow to his throat.

“Yield, I don’t want to kill you.” She said.

 _What the hell are you doing? Finish him already._ Tyrion suddenly remembered another trial and a man who did something as stupid as this girl. _This can´t be happening again._ Greyjoy kicked her hard and she fell to the floor as her opponent retrieved his sword. Tyrion closed his eyes; he could picture her head smashed in the yard.

“Fear cuts deeper than swords.” It was Arya’s voice. He opened his eyes again to see Cyara was standing again out of breath and blood was running down her left arm.  Victarion was smiling; he charged again but this time Cyara only moved enough to avoid the sword and their bodies collided. They looked as if they were embracing each other until Greyjoy dropped the sword and she moved away. Cyara had used the impact to pierce Greyjoy; he fell with blood spilling from the wound and used his last breath to curse her.

The audience was incredulously staring the scene. The Queen stood up and left without uttering a word. Tyrion couldn’t tell whether Connington was relieved or angry. The Hand directed to the court.

“This is over. The gods have found Arya Stark innocent. In name of Aegon Targaryen sixth of his name I spare her from her crimes.”  The lords and ladys started to disperse and the servants took care of the body. Cyara was nowhere to be found.

Connington seemed exhausted as he walked to meet Jon and his sister. He looked to the Stark girl. “You better don’t cause any trouble from now on. And I don´t want you to get near to Aegon.” He walked away from them.

“It is not like I am going to hurt him, I pledged my loyalty to him.” She was frowning.

 _He is not afraid of you but history repeating itself._ He had lost a prince because of a Stark girl and if his words could be believed Arya Stark was a perfect copy of her aunt.

“It has been a long day, we should go to rest.” The relief in Jon’s face was evident. “Where is she?”

“She was injured; maybe she went to see the master. I will look for her.”

They separated and Tyrion unsuccessfully searched the castle. He finally found her in what had been the godswood before Stannis Baratheon burnt it. She was leaning over the remaining of a tree, staring at the sky.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be celebrating with them?” She stared at her, waiting for her answer. He noticed she had treated her own wound. When no answer was provided, he added. “He is looking for you.”

“I failed.” For someone who normally managed to get her emotions under control, her shame was too evident.

“You won.” She shook her head.

“You know what I mean; I almost ruined everything.”

“Why would you do something like that?”

“I didn’t want to cause more trouble with Daenerys. I expected that if I let him live, she would understand we are not against her. I don’t enjoy killing.”

“Who would have known you had such a good heart, after all.” She didn’t respond to the jest, so he decided it would be better to leave her be. “I’m done for today, what about you?”

“I can’t face them yet. I will stay here.” He turned around and waddled to the exit, but her voice stopped him. “What about your question? If you don’t do it now, I might not answer later.”

 _A woman of her word._ Despite the stress the whole thing had brought upon him, he had prepared a question.

“You were highborn; I am pretty sure of that. You must have a surname. What is that surname?” Her eyes widened and she offered a pained smile.

“I didn’t see that coming.” She stared to the sky once more. “It _was_ Nervetti.”

It was his turn to be surprised. “What are you doing so far from Pentos?” She shrugged.

“The gods are cruel.”

 _To drag you to follow such a dangerous path, they are cruel indeed._ He had expected to find some entertainment in the truth, but he could only feel compassion for her.  It was something weird for Tyrion Lannister, to feel compassion for someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the delay, but as I said at the beginning, this chapter was... I just coulnd't put my thoughts into words. Plus, I was awfully sick and defenitely not in the mood for writting. (I didn't even knew Christmas was already gone).
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and thanks to all those who have commented.


	7. The Reluctant Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how many times I rewrote this chapter. The more I advance the more I find myself endlessly reviewing the story.  
> I really want to update every week, but I rather take more time between chapters than posting something I am not completly satisfied with.  
> Hopefully this was worthy waiting.

He awoke alone in his room, as he had the last three days. He had got used to find Cyara in the room when morning came, so this kind of solitude was strange. After the trial there had been some changes; he had kept his room next to Aegon and he now shared his guards. Arya had been assigned a room in a different tower, with the rest of the ladys from court and Cyara had moved with her to keep an eye on his sister. Part of the dornish had returned to Dorne and most of the Greyjoy party was imprisoned to prevent trouble.

Aegon was getting better and had finally gotten out of bed. Jon would visit him every day, making a great effort to smooth things between him and Arya. He tried to explain what had happened and assured him that she was no longer a threat to him. He laughed at him.

 _“You are thinking too much, brother. I trust your words, but I must admit your little sister is quite fearsome for someone so small.”_ He smiled at him. They had known each other for barely a month but Jon already found his smile reassuring; his brother had the power to make people feel better with a single smile.

 _“She is not fearsome, she’s… skilled.”_ Aegon arched a brow. _“I guess I hadn´t accepted she is not a defenseless Lady.”_

 _“She is everything, but defenseless.”_ They laughed together and the now common struck of guilt assaulted him. The tiny pieces of happiness he had from time to time were always overwhelmed by the past and his regrets. His mind returned to the present. He washed his face and changed his clothes; he was going to have breakfast with Aegon.

“Good morning, Duck.” He offered when the white knight opened the door.

“My prince, he is waiting for you.” Jon grimaced at the title; he didn’t like it but most of the castle insisted on calling him that way. _No matter who my father was; I’m still a bastard. The men in the Night’s Watch must be fighting for their lives and I am here being treated as a prince._

“What am I going to do with your ever melancholic face? I thought your sister would make you smile more.” He poured some wine for Jon. “I would love to meet her.”

“I don’t think that is wise.”

“Why? You said she wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Connington won’t like it.” Aegon understood.

“He thinks I will fall for her.  For someone so practical he is quite superstitious.” Jon averted his eyes. “You think it possible too.” Aegon rolled his eyes. “It won’t happen, my duty comes first.”

“I’m sure my brot… Robb said the same.” Aegon grimaced and he sighed. “Maester Aemon used to say _love is venom for duty._ ”

“Maybe we can’t control who we love but we can control our actions.”

“Well, Rhaegar couldn’t.” The words escaped his mouth without noticing and he regretted them immediately; he had hurt Aegon. He hesitated before speaking again. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Aegon pursed his lips for a moment. “It is the truth. He was unfair to my mother… and yours.”

“We don’t know for sure. Only Rhaegar, Lyanna and Elia knew what happened among them and they are dead. But it would be better if you and Arya kept some distance for some time.”

“Is that what have been worrying you lately?”

“Not at all; I also think highly improbable for Arya to fall for someone, not yet.” He hoped his words to be true. “I am worried for the men at the Watch, for the entire North. We have been stuck here for a while.”

“We were delayed by your arrival, the situation with your sister and my recovery but Connington will call for a war council in the evening. You must come as well; we will decide which shall be our next move.”

“I don’t think Daenerys will like me there.” Aegon frowned.

“Things have been difficult with her from the beginning; she thinks we are going to set her aside and my cousins are not cooperating. I think we are both afraid of the other taking complete control of what we have been fighting for. She is not a bad person; her brother seeded wrong ideas in her head and she had believed in them for a long time. She has also got her good share of suffering.”

“I don’t think she is ever going to accept me.”

“I will talk to her, make her understand. We have had differences, but she treasures family and you are her brother’s son.”

“I will leave that to you then.” Jon wanted to share Aegon’s optimism. They set the matter aside and continued their meal. When they were done Aegon went to speak with Daenerys and Jon looked for Arya.

It wasn’t hard to find her, since she had repeated the same routine for some time. She was in the yard, sparring with Cyara; he didn’t dare to interrupt. Arya had been impressed by her skills and asked Cyara to train with her. The combat had been both frightening and amazing; he had doubted she would be able to defeat Victarion Greyjoy and was proved wrong. If not for her good heart she would have completely humiliated the man. It wasn’t right but considering what the Greyjoys had done to his family, Jon felt some sort of satisfaction when the man died.

They were using wooden swords and no protection. Their fighting style was based in speed; any additional weight would make them slower. The movements were gracious and smooth; if not for the swords it could have been some kind of dance. Arya was good but she lacked of experience and Cyara was giving her a hard time; not that she wasn’t enjoying it. Even when she was reached by the sword she laughed. Jon realized he had missed her laughter a lot; it was like recovering a piece of their life at Winterfell. Arya dropped her sword and recovered it half a dozen times. When she fell, she stood up immediately and asked for another round.

“I yield. It is enough for today, tomorrow I’ll try again.” She told Cyara with a big smile.

“I’ll be waiting for you, then.”

“Are you sure you’re not a water dancer?  You move like one. Maybe you even met Syrio.” Her eyes were almost sparkling.

“I don’t know a single thing about water dancing. And it is the first time I hear that name.” Arya looked disappointed.

“Where did you learn to move like that?” Cyara hesitated before answering.

“I learnt by myself. Most of it is instinct. The dangers from beyond the Wall are good teachers.” Just then, Arya noticed him. She ran to him.

“Good morning, my prince.” She mocked at him with an over exaggerated bow.

“My Lady, you look gorgeous today.” He said in return. She smacked him in the arm.

“Where have you been? You promised you will spar with me.”

“I am not worthy of your skills.”

“Then let’s go riding. I am getting bored here. They treat me like a Lady and won’t allow me to explore the castle.”

“Fine, but we can’t take too long. There will be a war council and Aegon said I must attend.”

“May I attend too? I could help.”

“I will have to ask Connington. For now let’s focus on the riding thing.” He regarded Cyara. “Are you coming with us?” She averted her eyes.

“I think it’s better for you to go alone. Excuse me.” She left.

“What’s with her? She has been avoiding me since the trial.” Somehow they had returned to the starting point. There had been some strain when they met; they didn’t feel comfortable with each other. They clearly didn’t want to perform the task the raven had assigned them. The journey changed that; they grew closer and started to trust the other. Jon had thought they were friends now. After the trial her silence had retuned along with her cold treatment towards him.

“You are way too dense.” Arya offered and she looked at her, waiting for an explanation that didn’t come.

“Has she told you something?” Arya shook her head.

“She didn’t need to; I observe people.”

“And…”

“She just feels guilty. She could have killed that man right away, but she tried to spare his life and almost failed. She thinks you are mad at her. She worries a lot about her duty.”

“Are you sure? She might be tired of taking care of my back.”

“As I said, I know how to interpret people. She could have abandoned you already.”

 _I will have to clarify this mess with her as soon as possible. This is not the time for losing my friends._ The thing was Jon didn’t know if he could consider her a friend. Their situation was confusing; she had stated that she didn’t want to get involved with his life and made a great effort to avoid giving away any piece of information about herself, but she had offered him support and he had spotted traces of her kindness when he was having a hard time. Her attitude towards the others was warmer; she took care of Arya, japed with Tyrion and was way kinder with Aegon than she was with him. He didn’t know how to deal with her anymore.

“Do you think she would mind if I took her horse?” They had made it to the stable without him noticing.

“Why her horse?”

“I like it. Looks like it is fast.”

“I don’t think she would get angry at you.” Arya smiled. They evaded the guards and when they were in the woods she smiled at him again.

“I challenge you to a race.” She didn’t wait for his answer and urged on her horse.

He cursed and followed her. It was good to feel the cold air in his face and the smell of the trees, to hear Arya’s voice; it was like being back at Winterfell. No matter what happened, he always ended up thinking of Winterfell. They continued the ride, until he managed to outrace her for the first time in their lives. They stopped near a stream; it was starting to snow.

“I guess things have really changed. It is the first time you have been able to outrace me.” She was out of breath with the snow gathering in her hair and a big smile on her face. Jon wondered if Lyanna Stark ever looked that lively.

“I got a lot of practice while you were in Braavos.”

“That is unfair.” She stared into the forest and frowned; she had remembered something. “What happened to the wolves you were chasing?  I heard you came with ghost but I haven’t seen him.”

“We chased the pack away from the town and ghost helped us to track them for a while. Then he left with the pack, seems he was happy to find other wolves. They’re not so far though.”

“How do you now?” Jon hesitated for a moment. The free folk and the men from the Watch had considered his warg skills as something bad.

_If I can’t trust Arya, who will I trust?_

“I am a warg and I keep having this wolf dreams in which I am ghost.”

“So you have those dreams too.” She mumbled. “I thought I was going crazy.” Her eyes went wide. “That might mean Nymerya is still alive! Is it true the pack was leaded by a giant gray wolf?”

“I just saw the leader once, but it is highly possible that it was a dire wolf; it was huge.”

“Must be Nymeria! I have to find her. Where do you think they are?” She was about to urge on the horse.

“Wait. We can’t go after the pack right now.” Disappointment was written all over her face. “Don’t worry. If that wolf is Nymeria and Ghost followed the pack, they’re not alone anymore.”

“Like us?” He nodded and convinced her. “I bet I can get back to the castle before you do.”

The guards at the castle gave him disapproving looks; he was supposed to be guarded when he left the castle. Jon was feeling better after the ride, so he decided to ignore them. Being with Arya made him feel better. The feeling was smashed in a second.

“My Prince, the Queen wants to see you. She is waiting for you in her quarters.” A nervous servant communicated him.

“I will go immediately.”  He turned to Arya. “Find Cyara and stay with her until I return.”

“I will go with you. She will harm you.”

“She won’t. Do as I said, Arya, please.” She frowned but obeyed anyway.

He made his way to her room while wondering what she could want from him.  After the trial, the Queen had stayed in her room most of the time and refused to receive anyone. He had been careful to avoid her the past days and hoped it to be enough. When he was received by the little Missandei he was very nervous. Daenerys was staring through the window, her hair moving with the air.

 “Leave us alone Missandei, no one should disturb us.” The girl nodded and left. “You are finally here.” She offered without turning to him.

“I went riding with my sis... cousin. I didn’t expect to be summoned by you, my queen.”

“I know.” She turned to him, this time. “Take a seat, please. Wine?”

“No, thanks.” She sat across from him and studied with him for an indeterminable amount of time.

“I have spoken to Aegon.” She started. “I know I didn’t act the way should have, but I had been feeling cornered. Like I am losing myself; everything around me is crushing to pieces.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me.” Jon wasn’t sure how to react to her.

“Let me finish.” Her expression was serious as she continued. “My brother, Viserys, always taught me I should hate those who betrayed our father; that when the time came and we reclaimed what belonged to us, we should take revenge upon them.” She made a pause. “When he sold me to obtain a dothraki army, I began to understand he had been wrong and I should start to think and see things for myself, but accepting the truth is not easy. Do you think hearing my father burnt people alive or that he raped my mother was easy?”

“It must be hard.” It was all he managed to say, it was something he would never be able to imagine. She fell silent, looking for the proper words to continue.

“Ser Barristan told me that it is said every time a Targaryen is born, the gods throw a coin. _Madness or Greatness_ , only two options. After I heard that and considering what my father did, I started to wonder which one I was. That is why I stayed in Meeren; I was trying to prove myself I could be a good Queen; that it was greatness I had been born with, not madness.” She stared directly into his eyes and something changed in hers. “I failed, I failed to understand I was not what that people needed; they were not what I needed. When captain Greyjoy came for me and I saw the opportunity to go after Westeros I thought it was the best option for the city and for me. I abandoned them, all those people who trusted in me.” She looked at him again, her eyes almost pleading for forgiveness. “The guilt has been consuming me since then.” She fell silent and Jon felt the urge to say something.

“It is definitely not the same, but I abandoned the men from the Watch and the people from the free folk to come here.” It was true felt the guilt every day. His comment made her continue.

“Coming here made me feel even worse. People love and respect Aegon, but they are afraid of me. He is the son of the last Dragon Prince, a good man; I am the daughter of the Mad King, a man who enjoyed torturing others. If not for the dragons they would try to get rid of me. They won’t give me an opportunity. They make me feel like I abandoned those people for nothing. The guilt and the helplessness I feel are driving me crazy. The day _you_ came here and were accepted so easily I was convinced I would be discarded definitely and I lost my control; I allowed my rage to guide my actions and here we are.”

Jon suppressed the urge to roll his eyes; he had repeated dozens of times that was not what he wanted. If not for the things going on in the North, he would have never looked for the Dragons.

“Aegon doesn’t want to discard you and I don’t want to take anything away from you, will leave once I receive support for the Wall.” She gave him a wary look.

“You should stay; you are his son after all.” She continued staring at his face as if there was something important hidden in it. “Connington says you look like Eddard Stark when he was young, but your eyes have something that reminds me so much of Aegon.” Cyara had said something similar and he had liked it; hearing it from Daenerys was awkward so he changed the subject.

“About my sister…” He ventured.

“Her father was a rebel and direct responsible for the Targaryen downfall. However, whatever Eddard Stark did, died with him. Aegon is right; judging her for that would be like judging me for what my father did. That would be unfair. And the gods decided she was innocent from her actions towards Aegon.” She narrowed her eyes when she pronounced the last part.

“Eddard Stark was a good man. I am sure he did what he thought right. He protected me.” He should have remained silent, but Ned Stark had done too much for him and he wouldn’t allow anyone to speak ill of him. She sighed.

“Maybe, but it is not easy to forgive someone who hurt the ones we love. You should understand. Could you accept a Greyjoy that easily?” Jon remembered the trial; he wanted all of them to pay. He would have given everything to kill Theon himself.

“I understand and… I am sorry for what happened with Victarion. Cyara didn’t want to kill him.”

“I saw that, but I am honest, she did me a favor. That man helped me a lot, but he was crazy, cruel and dangerous. He thought he could take me as his woman and become King. He was also a menace for Aegon.” There was nothing left to say. “Now, if you excuse me, this conversation drained me out. I would like to rest before the war council. I assume Aegon asked you to attend.”

“He did.”

“Very well, I will see you then.” He was leaving but she stopped him to add, “Aegon and I attend the council with an advisor and two guards. I take Tyrion Lannister is your advisor and you will take your cousin and your companion as your guards. Tell them I am no longer a threat, please.”

“Of course, my Queen.”

“It is Daenerys.” They stared at each other until he broke the silence.

“I don’t think it is madness, you were just lost; like any other human being.” She seemed surprised; then offered him a faint smile before returning to her window.

For a moment, Jon didn’t know where to go. Everything Daenerys had told him kept is attention. He didn’t know how he was supposed to react to what she told him; he wasn’t even sure if he could trust her. Daenerys could be faking it and that would mean Arya was in danger, but then, he remembered her eyes; even if he wasn’t convinced by her words, her expression told him he must believe her. He wandered in the yard for a long time with his considerations until he remembered Arya might be waiting for him.

Jon rushed to her room and didn’t bother to knock the door. Cyara and Arya weren’t expecting him and it was clear they had been arguing about something. Cyara averted her eyes while Arya ran to him. _This can’t go on any longer; I have to make her tell me what it is she is so upset about._

“What did she want? Did she hurt you?” Arya was scanning him to make sure he was all right. Jon shook his head to answer her.

“She… kind of apologized for her attitude towards us.” That made Cyara turn to him and Arya gave a deep frown.

“She apologized? Can we believe her words?” Arya was in disbelief.

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

“We should go along with her; any other thing could upset her. I will keep an eye on her actions though.” Cyara looked as if she was considering a million options. She changed the subject. “Arya told me there will be a war council planned for this evening. Does this means we are finally moving from here?”

“So it seems. Daenerys told me we can take part in it.” That surprised her.

“I don’t like this sudden friendly attitude.”

“You are the one who suggested going along with her.” That comment granted him one of her killing stares.

 _Well, at least she is talking properly to me now._ He tried to ignore her anger.

“Anyway, what’s the point of me taking part? I don’t have an army to provide support to their cause.” Arya rolled her eyes at him.

“You were lord Commander of the Night’s Watch; surely you can cooperate with some strategy. Plus, among all of them, you are the one who has been living here since the Rebellion and witnessed the War of the Five Kings.” Arya’s practicality was still stunning. Jon couldn’t discern whether she was amused or upset about his _new family;_ she seemed to have accepted his new condition, even better than he had.

“Fine, I will at least pay attention to what they are discussing.”

“Could you stop talking as if this has nothing to do with you? This is _your_ discussion, this is _your_ cause. You are one of them now.” Jon could feel Cyara’s exasperation, but he was not going to let her have it her way.

“I didn’t choose this. I…” He started, but was immediately interrupted by her.

“Don’t dare to say that at this point.” Her tone had become lower and darker. “I gave you a chance to choose when we were at the Neck.”

“Yeah, and then I would have to live with the guilt of bounding you to me for the rest of our lives.” Jon realized he was being unreasoning, but for some reason he wasn’t able to stop. _What is going on with me? I used to be more unemotional.  Am I really transforming into a Targaryen?_ The thought hurt him deeply; he had always yearned to be a Stark.

“Don’t use me as your pitiful excuse. You wanted this. What about the North?” Her words didn’t fit her expression. _How does she manage to do that? Are we even having an argument?_ Still, he couldn’t stop himself from speaking.

“This is your way of doing things.” That made her expression change a bit.

“It is not _my_ way, but the only one. If you can come up with a better plan to get the support we need, we’ll leave the castle this very moment.” That was precisely what he had wanted from the beginning, but she was right, there was no other way. He had no means to do what he wanted to do and Aegon was the only one who was willling to help him. When he realized this, he felt stupid for starting a pointless fight with her; fortunately a knock in the door put an end to it. It was Duck.

“My prince, they sent me to summon you for the council. It will be held in the small hall.”

“We will be there in a minute.” Duck nodded and was about to left, “Can I ask you something before you leave?”

“I am at your service, my prince.”

“Stop it with the _prince_ thing please. I don’t like it.”

“But …”

“You call Aegon by his name, don’t you?”

“It will be done… Jon.” It was something little, but it made him feel better. The guard left this time.  As he was returning to the solar, he heard them arguing again. _I thought they got along._ He waited to see if he could hear something.

“Stop it already. I don’t care if you are having fun; I have had enough of you and Tyrion.” Cyara was telling to his sister.

“Give up. You will have to tell us what is you’re hiding sooner or later.” Arya’s voice sounded different from usual.

“It is not of your concern.” She turned to him. “And you, stop spying on us; you are bad a t it.”

“I just wanted to tell you we should go to the small hall to attend the council.” Cyara held Arya’s shoulders.

“You were allowed to attend this thing. Don’t say anything that may cause trouble.”

“I am not stupid.”

“No, but you’re a child and an impulsive one.” Arya couldn’t retort to that. There were no more words between them as they made their way to the small hall. When they entered only Tyrion was already there, sitting next to the chair that had been reserved for Jon. He and his companions took their place; he felt strange but made an effort to talk to Tyrion.

“What is your advice for this?” His mismatched eyes stared at Jon.

“Get as drunk as you can, these things are boring as embroidering lessons. Your sister can explain you very well.” He offered a smile to Arya. “This might take very long. No matter what they decide, there are going to lose a big amount of their armies and your brother doesn’t like to make a decision until he is sure he is going to save as many lives as possible.”

“We are at war, lives are meant to be lost one way or another.” Tyrion shrugged.

“When I met him, he was a cocky brat. He was worse than you and he didn’t have a beast to scare the crap out of me. I wasn’t here when they took this castle but I heard it was a bloody battle; he directed it, so I guess he felt responsible for all the lost lives. That made him really cautious.”

“Sounds like we will be here for a long time.” The mere perspective made his head hurt. Just then the rest of the attendants entered. Aegon was followed by Connington and Duck, as expected; the sand snakes were there with Princess Arianne; Daenerys was guarded by Ser Barristan and tall man in colorful clothes with the hair and beard dyed in flashy colors. He looked very intimate with Daenerys and Jon noticed that Connington didn’t approve how close they were. Connington cleared his throat and started.

“As you all know, due to unexpected circumstances,” he gave Arya a quick disapproving look, “our progress in this war has been delayed. Hopefully it didn’t mean any advantage for the enemy.” He sighed. “We have to decide which kingdom we are going to take next.”

“The Reach, the Vale and the Crown lands are a definitive _no._ ” Aegon said. It was obvious, those kingdoms were still strong and the Royal family was directly connected to two of those.

“Those _unexpected circumstances_ Lord Connington mentioned before,” Daenerys stared at him, “shouldn´t we consider them advantages now? The North is a sure victory.” Jon wasn’t planning to participate, but he found himself speaking.

“The North is a sure loss.” He dragged everyone’s attention. “I mean, we do have Arya and with exception of the Iron Islands, the whole North would follow her because she is Ned Stark’s daughter. The thing is, right now, the North is a mess. Stannis Baratheon holds Winterfell; there might still be some Bolton loyalists around, the free folk wander the lands freely and the Crown has a bunch of hostages from the Red Wedding. The Lords have a lot to lose; they won’t follow us.” The fact that he had used the word _us_ surprised him.

“I thought the North had pledged its loyalty to the rightful king already.” Connington couldn’t keep his eyes away from Arya.

“The North won’t oppose Aegon. They will come as a consequence of the Crown lands falling to us.” He made his best to sound convincing. Those people had suffered long enough and they needed to get a break before something worse was casted upon them.

“And I think the same can be said from the Riverlands. The little lady is related to them by blood so it will be helpful to have her, but not yet.” Tyrion added.

“That only leaves the Westernlands…” Aegon didn’t like it.

“We do have Lord Tyrion.” Daenerys always seemed optimistic. “Edmure Tully is prisoner there, releasing him would grant us the Riverlands. And the Lannister army can’t defend both King’s landing and Casterly Rock.”

“To take the Westernlands we would have to cross the Reach. We could always use ships but the Iron islands would get in our way, especially after what happened with Victarion.” Princess Arianne pointed.

“That is not necessarily true.” Arya told nonchalantly. “The Iron islands are being controlled by Euron Greyjoy and he never liked Victarion. It would still be a bet, though.” She wasn’t supposed to take part, but everyone was listening to her.

“How do you know that?” Connington asked her.

“Do you even have to ask?” Tyrion gave him the answer as he drank yet another cup of wine. “The plan sounds wonderful, but you are forgetting something insignificant. Those western Lords loved Tywin Lannister and it happens that I killed the bastard. If you put me there, you are only going to cause a revolt. Like it or not, you need Jaime there.” Daenerys didn’t like it but she knew it true so she didn’t protest.

“So we are where we started.” Connington was exasperated.

“Maybe we should really go North.” Aegon offered.

“The problem is how to get there.” Connnington answered. “It won’t be easy in the middle of the winter and war.

“If we are going to take risks, then let´s go directly to King’s Landing.” Princess Arianne was getting impatient.

“Another Battle of the Trident? No. We need at least one more kingdom supporting us.” Connington rejected the suggestion.

“There’s no other kingdom, maybe if we…” Daenerys started.

“We are not going to use the dragons.” Aegon said immediately.

“I am not going to burn anyone, we will only scare them.” Daenerys defended herself.

“That is how you want to start our rule, with fear?” Aegon shouted and the hall fell into chaos. Everyone was shouting something, the guards were perplexed and Tyrion was even laughing. Jon wanted to leave the room, his head felt as if it was about to explode. He was massaging his temples when it hit him; he knew what they should do.

“The Vale” He said in a hushed voice and everyone stared at him as if he was crazy. “We should go after the Vale,” he repeated louder this time, “They have an untouched army and supplies.”

“That is exactly the reason it is the worst option.” Aegon was terrified at his suggestion. “The battle would be devastating.”

“We don’t need to fight them.” He was strangely sure of what he was saying. “Arya and Lord Arryn are cousins, we could convince him.”

“He is a petulant, spoiled child who enjoys throwing people through the Moon Gate; he won’t listen to you.” Tyrion said with disdain. It wasn’t enough to make him retreat.

“We can find a way to convince him.”  Jon said and Ser Barristan cleared his throat.

“If your graces allow me to share my opinion…”

“Your advice is always well received Ser.” Daenerys told him and he continued.

“Eddard Stark grew up in the Vale and all of the lords knew him and respected him. He fought along with Jon Arryn during the Rebellion. That friendship could bring them to our side if they see Arya Stark and his bastard son are supporting us. Of course, they are not aware you are a prince, your grace.” The knight corrected himself. What he said had changed most of the negative expressions.

“I am very sorry to ruin your plans every time. But as a Lannister I am compelled to sabotage the Targaryen hopes.” Tyrion had really gotten drunk. “You won’t get an audience with the little rascal, Baelish won’t allow it. He owes everything he has to my sweet sister’s spawn; he won’t betray the crown.”

“The Lords of the Vale could; Jon Arryn’s death wasn’t natural. Eddard Stark thought it was plotted by Cersei Lannister. They never liked Lord Baelish.” The old knight retorted. It was the first time Jon heard about that. _Was this the reason she killed my father._ He would have to get there to find out.

“If the Lords don’t like Baelish, we could overthrow him to win their support, and then present Arya to them.” His words hadn’t convinced them yet, so he directed his next words to Aegon. “We can take a look at the situation in the Vale and decide if it is viable. We don’t have anything to lose, but if we succeed, we could attack King’s Landing from both north and south.”

“How are we supposed to learn about the situation in the Vale?” Aegon didn’t want to risk a single life.

“I could take a look. No one there knows me and I doubt a woman would raise any suspicions.” When Cyara said that, all of Aegon’s doubts seemed to vanish. It surprised Jon, the effect she produced on his brother.

“It could work.” Connington had been convinced as well.

“There is just one thing left we have to consider.” She was talking to Jon. “Is there a way to prove the Lords you are Jon Snow and she is Arya Stark?” Jon thought for a moment.

“Yohn Royce was a guest at Winterfell when his son took the black, he might recognize us.” Connington nodded.

“We will give you a ship and some men from the Golden Company to escort you. If you don’t achieve anything within two moons, you will return and we will go after the Westernlands.” Connington was talking to him as if he were Aegon.

“I will go as well.” Connington answer Aegon with a glower, and Daenerys supported the man.

“You should stay here, nephew. The court needs to see you here.” That didn’t convince him.

“It would be better if you stay. There must be spies in the castle and if you go, that could drag their attention and ruin the plan.” Arya told him and received another disapproving stare from Connington. “Your grace.” She added with a frown. They argued a little longer, until they convinced Aegon to stay.

Jon couldn’t believe he had participated so actively in the meeting or that he would be the one assigned the mission to drag the Vale to their side; it was quite an important issue. _Would it have been this way if I had joined Robb when he was fighting the Lannister army?_ No, there was no way. Lady Catelyn wouldn’t have allowed him to be that close to him; she had always considered him a menace to Robb.

Aegon was going to eat with Princess Arianne and invited him, but he didn’t like the way the princess stared at him so he rejected the offer. Daenerys retired with her flashy guard and Jon could feel the anger emanating from Connington. _Is Aegon aware of their relationship?_ If he was, it didn’t affect him, so Jon decided he shouldn’t care about it.

“For someone who doesn’t want to play the game, you did a good job to manipulate them.” Tyrion looked sober somehow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tyrion gave him a smile.

“I can’t decide whether you are incredibly smart or naïve. Well, even if you don’t realize now, you will understand once your mission succeeds.”

“Didn’t you say it wouldn’t work?”

“Did I? Maybe I was just making sure you were aware of all the considerations needed to execute this plan.” There was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Leave him alone.” Arya appeared to save him. “You are going to have dinner with me, right?” Arya asked.

“I think it is not the right moment.” Jon gave Cyara an instant look and Tyrion noticed it.

“Don’t worry about the Maiden, I have already asked for the pleasure of her company.” Cyara looked like she had no other option and left with Tyrion.

They had spent a considerable amount of time together since the trial. Every time she returned from one of her meetings, she had a strange expression on her face. It had made him worry, but gave his best to convince himself it had nothing to do with him. _She might enjoy his company or she wouldn’t go with him._ Whatever they were doing, it had been her decision.

* * * * *

He greeted the guards before entering his room. When he lighted the room, he noticed he was not alone. He put on his guard a second before realizing it was Cyara; she was frowning.

“I have told Connington a million times that most of his guards are useless, but he won’t listen to me.”

“I doubt you came here to test my security.” She sat at the table and he did the same.

“There’s something you want to talk about.” She had always been direct with him, so he decided to do the same.

“You have been avoiding me.” He said bluntly.

“I though it to be the best. I thought you were worth at me for what happened during the trial.” She wasn’t looking at him.

_Arya was right._

“I have no reason to; you kept your promise to protect my sister.” Her expression told him, she didn’t believe his words. “I am glad you weren’t injured badly.”

“I shouldn’t have allowed my own principles to interfere with what I had to do.”

“You are being too harsh on yourself.” She sighed; there was something more.

“If you really want to leave… we could look for another way to do this.” That surprised him.

“We both know there’s no other way. I was unreasonable and I couldn’t abandon Aegon now.” He confessed and she studied him for a while.

“I despise the idea of the prophecy, but somehow I am sure there’s no one more suitable to do this than you, not even Aegon.” He laughed.

“Is that so? You must be the only one who considers a bastard more suitable than a prince to do anything.”

“I must be a very strange person.” She put a hand on his shoulder and stood up. “Anyway, I should return to face Arya’s interrogation.”

 _Now the fight makes sense._ He had obtained a similar result when he questioned her about her past and Arya could be really insistent.  It wasn’t fair for her to be responsible of Arya.

“You could stay here to avoid her.” He blurted.

_Where did that come from?_

“Although I would love to see Aegon’s expression when he discovers I spent the night here, I wouldn’t be able to stand Tyrion and his speculations or Connington’s disapproval. I prefer Arya’s curiosity.”

“Connington’s disapproval?” He asked like an idiot.

“It is not appropriate for a prince to share a room with a woman his not married with. He might be looking an appropriate wife for you already.” He hadn’t considered that.

“I am not Aegon.”

“You’re Rhaegar’s son and the man worries for you.” She had reached the door. “This is not Winterfell and this people don’t see you as a bastard; you shouldn’t do it either.” She added before closing the door.

 _I shouldn’t consider myself as a bastard?_ He was taken aback by her words. A bastard was all he had ever been and his current condition didn’t change it. Those thoughts occupied his mind until sleep took him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of those who have left comments; I expect to receive more in the future.


	8. Servant of God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter started as an Arya chapter, then I realized it would end up being super long, so I divided it.  
> I also thougth it was about time to allow the readers to see more of my OC.

The snow was beautiful; it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life. It had covered the whole landscape; the trees, the rocks, the flowers and the galley. Under the sparkling blanket of the snow everything was so white, so pure, and so magical. It might be an exaggeration, but for a girl who had only known the warm weather of the summer, it was true.

She stared the landscape from the deck for a long, long time before deciding to test it with her own feet. She ran, hearing the sound the snow made under her feet, taking in the smell of the forest; it felt like being inside a fairy tale.

Suddenly, the fairy tale became a nightmare; the pure white had been tainted with a sticky crimson and she realized it was blood.

 _“This was your fault.”_ The voice, more than the words, sent a shiver through her body. It was a familiar voice.

 _“What’s happening? I didn’t do anything.”_ She made an effort to speak, because fear had taken her voice away.

 _“No, it is your fault.”_ The voice became unbearable and she realized the galley was getting farther away from the shore.

“ _What are you doing? Don’t leave me here.”_ She pleaded.

_“This is what you deserve.”_

_“Don’t leave me, please. I am scared.”_ She was crying. _“Please, come back.”_ It was so cold.

“Don’t leave me here.” Her voice was almost a whisper and her heartbeat was impossibly loud. The place was immersed in darkness and for a moment, she didn´t knew where she was.

“It was only a nightmare.” Arya’s voice reminded her she was in the harbor’s inn. “What was it about?” She breathed, trying to calm down.

“It was not a nightmare.” She lied.

“You were very unsettled for a good dream. Your heartbeat and breathing tell me it was something scary.” If there had been light, her gray eyes would be piercing her.

 _Am I ever going to get a break from her?_ Cyara couldn’t understand why they were so insistent to know about her life; it was not a nice thing to tell. She looked for a plausible lie to tell her; nothing came to her mind.

“Why don’t you tell me what you believe and stop questioning me?” Even in the darkness, Cyara could picture her smile.”

“I would like to know what you tell to Tyrion Lannister.” She said using her innocent voice. “Your conscience must be betraying you; you only have nightmares after you talk with him.”

“It is not of your concern.” Cyara retorted as she lighted a lamp.

“It is if it affects Jon. You and Tyrion could be planning to betray him.” She was expressionless.

_Is she joking?_

“Why would I do that? I’ve been taking care of you and him. Is that not enough for you?”

“I am not as naïve as he is; I like you, but I don’t trust anyone that easily. I’ve spent enough time with you to understand there’s something weird about you. You lie about being a wildling; you could be lying about your loyalty.” She was taken aback by the words. Even if she didn’t want to tell about herself, that didn’t mean she was plotting against them.

_I’m an idiot. She never needed my protection; she has been faking innocence all this time._

“I am not planning anything. Anyway, what are you going to do if I don’t tell you?”

“I will tell Connington you’re plotting something against Jon and Aegon. We both know how he will react.” Her eyes were pure steel.

 _I don’t deserve this._ She lost her temper.

“Then I will tell Jon of all the people you have killed. Do you think I believed Aegon was your first mission?” Her confident expression vanished.

“You wouldn’t …” Her voice was shaking.

“How do you think he would react?” For the first time, Arya Stark was showing real emotion. She was clearly horrified; she didn’t want anyone to know what she had done, especially Jon.

 _What is going on with me?_ She had to remain calm and think clear. Arya was frozen.

“I’m sorry. I would never do something like that. I lost my temper.” Just then, she noticed Arya had reached for _Needle._

_This is bad. Faceless Assassin or not, I promised Jon I would take care of her. I have to calm her down._

“It was a nightmare due to my talk with Tyrion. He asks things that are hard to remember.” She confessed and Arya relaxed a bit.

“If it’s so hard, why do you keep talking with him?”

“He offers good counsel for your brother.” Arya scanned her, searching lies.

“You’re torturing yourself.” Arya had recovered her normal attitude.

“I am trying to prove it does not affect me anymore.” Arya bit her lip, considering something.

“You’re trying to become _no one._ ”

“You could say that; it’s not working though.” Arya looked into her eyes.

“You won’t tell him, right? About the things I have done.” Her hands were moving nervously.

“No, but I think you should.”

“He will think I’m a monster.” Her face was full of fear.

“He will understand.” Arya shook her head; Cyara shrugged. “It is your decision. You should sleep; there’s still time before we leave.” Arya’s face changed to curiosity.

“Don’t you need to sleep?”

_Again?_

“A few hours are enough for me.” It had been like that since the raven gave her the first vision.

Arya fell asleep again almost immediately.  She observed the girl’s sleeping face for some time before putting out the lamp. It was surprising how much they look alike. When the darkness returned, the images of her nightmare did the same.

She had not thought about that day in a long time; in fact she had not thought about anything related to her childhood since she made the deal with the raven. Her memory was intact but she had chosen to consider it as something that happened to someone else. Arya had been right; she had been a _no one_ for years. The Cyara that had served the greenseer was not a person, but a servant without past or humanity.

More than one time when she was tracking White Walkers, she had had the opportunity to save someone from the attack of a wight, but she hadn’t. She had avoided having contact with another person until she was sent to rescue Jon. She didn’t care for his complains, his regrets or his pain, but for the sake of convincing him to follow her, she had faked some humanity.

It did not last. By the time they had reached the Neck, her false concern and empathy had become real and the line between the person she had been and the person she was had disappeared. She realized the change the night he cried in her arms. Cyara genuinely cared for him, not for the _promised prince_ , but for the person he was. Unfortunately for her, the more she cared for Jon, the closer the past got to her; it now seemed unavoidable. The nightmares had started as disconnected images; the last one had been the closest to the real deal. Cyara was worried; if they kept getting worse they could interfere with their plans.

 _I will have to avoid Tyrion for some time._ She chuckled at the idea. _He is unavoidable._

They left the inn after sunrise. When they were about to get to the galley that would take them to the Vale, Cyara noticed the priest Moqorro had his eyes fixed on her, not that it was the first time it occurred. The Red Priest hadn’t paid any attention to her, until he witnessed the trial. Whenever they crossed, she could feel his intense stare; it was quite familiar.

_Like the woman in the Wall._

The first time she noticed the Red Priestess, she was shouting they ought to put Jon into the fire. She had been the one who alerted the men from the Watch that Cyara was taking him away. Cyara had hated her for that; it would have been so easy to sneak away with him if she had kept her mouth shut. After that, she had been forced to kill more than a dozen men to escape; she had even used _that thing_.In fact, she was considering using _it_ again. Cyara was aware that some of the Red Priests were able to perform some kind of magic, so she didn’t want to get involved with them, but Moqorro’s stare made her feel so uncomfortable…

“Are you planning to kill someone?” Arya whispered. Cyara was holding _that thing’s_ handle and Moqorro was smiling.

“What are yo…” Just then, she saw the galley, covered in snow.

 _When did it start to snow?_ She was frozen. She had been living surrounded by snow, but she hadn’t seen a ship in almost a decade. Her heartbeat accelerated.

“What is wrong with you?” Arya was frowning. She had stopped so abruptly that everyone had stopped with her. Jon and Tyrion were frowning too.

“The snow and… the gal… galley look a lot like my…” Arya understood and nodded.

“What are you doing?” Connington asked. Her mind was empty.

“It is the first time she sees a galley. She is speechless.” Arya answered in her place.

“HA, HA! The little cunt is an ignorant wildling after all.” Strickland laughed at her.

“We don’t have time for this, girl.” Connington buffed.

“Don’t be afraid, it will be fun.” Arya took her hand as she added in an incredibly low voice, “Fear cuts deeper than swords.” 

Cyara managed to stay still while Moqorro prayed for their success and the safety of the trip. As the soldiers from the golden company boarded, Connington was giving some final orders to Jon and asked them to approach as well.

“Strickland is supposed to follow your orders,” he was telling Jon, “but the gods know the man is a coward.” He sighed. “If he gives you trouble, speak directly to Black Balaq.”

“I will.” Connington remained silent during a brief moment.

“Don’t ruin it boy.” The words were harsh and Jon winced at them, but she knew that was the best Connington could do to show his affection. He turned to face her.

“I wild hold you responsible for the Prince’s safety.” He regarded Arya. “You too.” He turned around and left.

The moment she put her feet on the deck a shiver ran though her body. She was shaking lightly as she waited to be assigned a cabin. As expected, she and Arya would be sharing. She managed to find her cabin before the galley started to move.

 “You look sick.”

“I didn’t imagine it would be that difficult.”

“Will you be able to resist all the way to the Vale?”

“As long as I don’t see the deck covered in snow, I’ll be fine.” She managed to sit on the bed.

“What’s so scary about it?” Her head was hurting.

“Can we speak about something else?” Arya made a pout, until she remembered something.

“I didn’t know you had a sword. Why do you never use it?” Arya liked swords a lot.

“I’m more used to the bow. I’m faster with it and it has Valyrian steel, which is useful to kill wights.  That doesn’t mean I have never used it before. The sword is _special_ in other ways.”

“Does it have a name? The greatest swords have names.” She had been taught the same, but she hadn’t considered selecting a name for _that_ sword, since it was not truly hers. However, for some reason the perfect name for _that_ sword came to her mind as she talked with Arya.

“ _Heartfreezer._ ” Arya seemed to like it, because she gave Cyara her characteristic wolfish smile.

“It’s a dreadful name. Sounds like it has taken hundreds of lives.”

 _Thousands of lives._ She corrected in her mind.

“About what happened last night....” Cyara wanted to make sure Arya was not worth at her anymore.

“We both say things that shouldn’t had been said.” She shrugged and gave her an intense stare. “I have lost too much already; I wanted to make sure Jon was safe.” Cyara nodded and they settled the subject for good.

Cyara had thought she would be able to bear the journey if she avoided the deck; she had been wrong. That night, when they were called for dinner, the movement of the galley in the sea, all the smells and the narrow hallways were effective to make her fears return. She made a great effort to appear as calm as ever and swallow a piece of bread; when she couldn’t stand it anymore she excused herself from table.

She wasn’t able to reach her cabin. She stood in the middle of the hallway as the voice of Ezio Nervetti whispered to her: _“This is what you deserve.”_

“Is the sea that scary for you, little cunt?” She lifted her head and found Harry Strickland standing way too close to her. Cyara decided not to answer, or maybe she wasn’t able to. The commander took her wrist. “I have heard my men call you the Winter Maiden and you don’t seem to enjoy it. Come with me and I will strip you from your fears, the nickname and other things.” He offered in a lewd tone.

It was not the first time something like this had happened. At Storm’s End, the _Winter Maiden_ had laughed at the proposals of half a dozen men after beating the crap out of them. Right now, there was a problem; she was not inside a castle and she was not acting as the _Winter Maiden._ Strickland was dragging her to his own cabin and she could barely move. Her mind and body were moving in two different dimensions.

“I highly suggest you to release her, commander.” Jon had followed her and he didn’t like the scene he was looking at.

“We were just having fun, bastard Prince.” He retorted with disdain as he let her go. Jon paid no attention to the insult.

“It doesn´t seem like, she was having fun. Were you?” She managed to shake her head.

“There you have, commander. Don’t dare to touch her again.” His voice was cold as ice.

“Your mistress is not as innocent as you think. She has been bedding your kingly brother.” He spat as he got away from them. She felt Jon’s hand on her shoulder.

“Do you want me to take you to your cabin?” Cyara nodded.

After crossing the door, it took her a while to recover her voice. Jon was staring at her intensively, concern twisting his Stark features.

“What?”

“Before noticing something was wrong with you I believed you were going to accept him.” Cyara didn’t know if he had done it on purpose, but his words made her forget the memories the ship provided and she laughed.

“I have wasted the chance to fuck your brother, the most handsome man in the whole world. What made you think I had something going for Strickland?” She asked full of amusement and he almost blushed.

“You didn’t reject him right away. What happened to you?” His stern look had returned.

Cyara pondered over telling him how the galley made her remember the day she was abandoned beyond the Wall. Maybe, what she needed was for someone to listen to her in other to overcome her fear.

_My worries won’t bring any god to him and it might not help me at all._

“I’ve discovered I’m awfully seasick.” She lied.  Her life was full of lies and hidden things.

“It will take a fortnight for us to reach the Vale.”

“I’ll have to endure it.” She forced a smile.

She endured the rest of the journey as she had promised. It wasn’t that bad if she stayed in her cabin. Arya was a great help; after Cyara woke up from the nightmares, she would calm her down telling her stories of her days wandering the Riverlands and all the people she had met. Cyara thanked the gods for sending her Arya Stark.

They disembarked as close to Runestone as caution allowed them to. The crew remained in the ship and the hundred men they had been provided with set, a campsite while she and Arya prepared for the ride to the Eiry. Cyara was completely glad that the journey through the sea had finally ended.

Black Balaq lent her a sword and gave her a hundred arrows before wishing them good luck. Tyrion waddled to her as the Stark siblings embraced each other and gave her a meaningful look.

“Our little assassin told me about the nightmares.” He offered.

“That little…” She cursed.

“It was never my intention to torture you that way.”

“It was not your fault and I had to pay the price of your counsel.”

“Your sense of honor will kill you, my Lady.” She frowned.

“I will take that on account. Don’t let him become impatient.” She asked.

“It’s like asking my sweet sister not to be stupid.” He snorted, but Cyara knew he would try. There was some kind of honor hidden inside Tyrion Lannister as well.

There were not farewell words between her and Jon. A nod was enough to convey their thoughts to each other; it was the result of spending so much time traveling together. _Don’t let Arya be reckless. Take care._ Were his unspoken words.

They had to wait another fortnight to reach the winter residence of the Arryn’s, beyond the Bloody Gate. They left the horses behind and Arya’s skills gave them easy access to the castle. Once they were inside they hid their weapons and changed their riding clothes for dresses to hide among the small folk, much to Arya’s dismay. The place was strangely crowded with small folks so they could observe and remain unseen.

It took them no time to find out the reason the place was so crowded and noisy. A funeral was taking place. The women were crying and the Lords babbling about the unfairness of the gods. The ruckus stopped, when a short, slim man asked for silence. The got as close as they could to listen.

“I want to thank your assistance, even if this is the bitterest of reunions for all of us.” He started and Arya glowered at the man. As he spoke, most of the Lords regarded him furious stares.

“You know him?” Cyara asked.

“He’s Baelish.”

_The man we should take care of._

“I see.” Was all she could say. The man kept talking.

“We will all miss our dearest Robert Arryn…” Cyara didn’t listen to the rest.

 _Robert Arryn is dead; this is bad._ All their hopes were based on the little boy. There were no more Arryns, which meant another Lord would be named Lord of the Eiry and it could very possibly had formed an alliance with Baelish.

“What do we do now?” Arya asked.

“I don’t have any idea. Perhaps we should wait until we learn who is going to become the next leader of the Valley.” The speech had ended.

A man with blonde hair and deep blue eyes stepped forward. He was young, perhaps even younger than Cyara. The people acclaimed him and when he smiled the young ladys melted.

“Do you know him?” Arya shook her head as the man started to speak.

“The loss of the Lord Protector of the Vale is a great disgrace, but at times as difficult as the ones we’re facing, we can’t afford to let the pain take control.” The crowd was looking at him approvingly. “The Arryn’s have always been proud, brave and honorable. For me, as the heir to the Eiry, it will be both an honor and my priority to serve the people of the Vale. However, if one of the Lords has something against my ascension as the new Lord of the Eiry I will be glad to discuss it.”

 _Can we trust him our plans?_ She had no way to know, but she didn’t like what was going on there. The Lords were no focusing on the funeral; they were strengthening the positon of the young lord. An old man talked this time.

“He is Yohn Royce.” Arya offered.

“Lord Hardyng, you are a worthy man and an excellent knight. We support your ascension, we’ll even grant you the honor to carry the Arryn name, but we strongly suggest you to change your engagement to a more suitable Lady.” The knight frowned for a moment.

“It will be dishonorable to reject my betrothed, because my conditions have changed lately. I made a promise to marry my sweet Alayne and I will keep it.” The older man’s features twisted in anger., but he managed to remain calm.

“Petyr Baelish’s bastard daughter is not a suitable match for the Lord of the Vale.” That was all they needed to hear.

 _His allegiance is for Baelish._ She thought as the Lords started a discussion.

“Time for us to go. If he is half as cautious as we were told, we can’t afford raising suspicions.” She told Arya.

“What about the plan?”

“We’ll have to change our plans.” They had set their hopes on the hate the Lords felt for Baelish. If he had the support of the new guardian of the Vale, there was nothing left to do.

Arya didn’t allow her to give more than two steps. She was holding her arm with an incredible strength.

“Wait.” Arya said in a whisper. The heir to the Vale had taken a beautiful girl in a black dress with him, more likely to be his betrothed; he was defending her from the other Lords. Arya had her eyes fixed on her.

“What?” Arya squeezed her arm with more strength.

“I know her.” In the middle of the ruckus, her voice was almost inaudible. “She is my sister.”

 _Sansa Stark?_ Cyara directed her eyes to the bastard girl named Alayne. She tried to remember the description of the Stark children, Jon had given to her. _Auburn hair and blue eyes._ She had the eyes.

“Are you sure?” Arya turned to face her.

“Do you think I wouldn’t recognize my own sister?” Anger in her face.

_What does this mean for us?_

“We are staying.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course, we have to take her with us.” For a moment, Arya’s voice sounded like a plea. Cyara sighed heavily.

_Fantastic, another Stark to add to my list of responsibilities._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not good at calculating distances an the time it takes to get from place to place, but I think it isn't essential for telling the story, is it? I' d like to know your opinion.


	9. The Bastard Daughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm goind to try to add more than one point of view per chapter. It might be easier for me to write what I want that way.
> 
> I think I'll go for the every two weeks update from now on, but if by any miracle I happen to finish the chapter before, I'll post it immediatly.

CYARA

 

Cyara was staring at the campfire, trying to figure out a way to take the presumed Sansa Stark out of a castle full of knights without getting killed. She had had to drag Arya out of the place by force and she was worth at Cyara. If she hadn’t been there, Arya Stark would have charged against Harrold Hardyng without hesitation.

 

 _No, Harrold Arryn._ She reminded herself; one death could change so many things. _Now again, How?_

 

“Are you still thinking? It isn’t difficult to sneak in a castle.” She was furiously sharpening _Needle_. Cyara gave her a pointed look; for someone so intelligent, she lost her temper rather quickly when it came to something related to her family.

 

“In order to do that we would have to learn the movements of the entire castle.” Arya smiled.

 

“Piece of cake. I will enter as a servant and observe as I did at Storm’s End.”

 

“You aren’t thinking clear. Baelish surely pays very good attention to the people working at his service; it will take time before you are allowed to get closer.”

 

“I can be very patient.”

 

 _Ha, ha, good joke_.

 

“There’s no enough time for that; if we don’t return by the end of this moon, Jon will come to look for us and get in trouble with this people. Your sister is not the only issue we’re risking here.” Arya frowned and she paused; an idea she had conceived after observing Harrold Arryn interacting with Alayne Stone crossed her mind. “You’re good at… judging people. What do you think about your sister’s relationship with Harrold Arryn?”

 

“What do you mean?” Arya had stopped her sharpening.

 

“Do you think he is truly in love with her? He was defending their engagement quite stubbornly.” Arya thought for a moment.

 

“I don’t think it is love,” she made a face when she pronounced the last word, “he’s rather obsessed with her. Sansa is really beautiful, it must be lust or he knows her true identity. Anyway, what does this have to do with anything?”

 

“I was thinking Sansa could convince him to betray Baelish and form an alliance with us.”

 

“What if he doesn’t come after her?”

 

“I’ve been thinking we might have to abduct him as well. Yohn Royce will come after the heir, for sure.” Arya was considering it as well. “But as I said, we don’t know a single thing about the castle. We’re completely blind.” She sighed. Arya’s eyes widened a lot.

 

“That’s it! Cats! There must be one or two cats inside.” Cyara was positively confused. “I’ll warg into the cats.”

 

_I thought Brandon and Jon were the only ones._

 

“Have you done it before?”

 

“Uh huh, back in Braavos.” Cyara allowed herself to smile.

 

“Will you be able to do it? We’re pretty far from the castle.”

 

“I will, just take care of my body.”

 

It took longer than Cyara had expected, but Arya managed to spy inside the castle using the cats. She discovered that the doors to their targets were not really heavily guarded, memorized the change of shifts and the vulnerable points of the castle. Alayne Stone was only guarded by a big gray haired man and Harrold Arryn had three guards who didn’t look menacing.

 

“Baelish is the one heavily guarded, but he sleeps in a different floor. They are allowing the small folk to enter the castle to pay their respects to their dead Lord,” Arya hesitated a second, “we could enter on the morrow with them and hide somewhere and wait for the right time. There is a forgotten service door across from the yard that could be our escape route.” Surprisingly, she was waiting for her approval. Cyara nodded.

 

“Sounds good enough. I will go for the heir and you will get your sister and we’ll meet up outside the castle; it will be faster that way. How much time do you think it will take Sansa out?”

 

“After we separate… maybe an hour.” It was enough time for her to abduct the heir.

 

“Listen, if I don’t meet you in the forest after an hour and a half, you must leave for the ship.” Arya didn’t like that.

 

“I won’t let them get you.” Cyara shook her head.

 

“Your only concern must be your sister and nothing else.” Arya was chewing her lip; it was a sign of indecision. “It is a precaution; it doesn’t mean I’ll get caught.” Cyara smiled at her and Arya seemed more relieved.

 

“It will be really easy.” Arya added and Cyara hopped her to be right.

 

 

 

ALAYNE

 

Alayne Stone was attending her embroidery lessons with Anya Waynwood. It was an honor a bastard daughter like her would never be granted under normal circumstances, but her circumstances were not normal.

 

After the death of Robert Arryn, her beloved Harry had become the Lord of Vale, so the rest of the lords had advised him to break their betrothal. However, Alayne never got worried; she had done a good work with Harry and he refused to let go of her. He announced his vassals he would keep his vows to his lady and even threatened to abdicate his position as the _heir_ if they tried to separate him from his soulmate.

 

Alayne had laughed inwardly when Harry said they were soulmates. They weren’t soulmates, there was no especial bond between them; it was merely desire. Harry was very handsome, his golden hair was soft, his blue eyes were deep as a lake and his smile melted every woman in the Vale… except for her. Instead of falling for him, she made him fall for her and it was paying off.

 

The lords could only accept Harry’s decision, but they could not allow her origin to disgrace the brave Harry. They had entrusted Lady Waynwood with the almost impossible task to make a proper lady of her. Anya Waynwood showed her how to behave during a feast, to greet other lords and ladys, how to courtsey and smile, how to dress and a bunch of useless words to please the people.

 

Lady Waynwood had been reluctant at the beginning, but her pupil showed a natural talent for all her lessons and she seemed satisfied with her progress. For any other bastard daughter, the lessons would have been a painful journey, but for Alayne was the easiest thing in the world.

 

 _It was more difficult to pretend I was new at all this useless stuff._ She thought as she moved the needle.

 

“Let me see what you have done.” Alayne showed her work to the old lady. Anya Waynwood almost smiled. “You have great talent; you should have been born a Lady.”

 

“You´re the kindest, Lady Waynwood. I don’t think I will ever be good enough to become Harry’s bride.” Alayne’s best point was her modesty.

 

“That is why I have been entrusted with your education; I’ll transform you into a proper Lady in no time and no one will ever remember you were born bastard.” Alayne smiled timidly and lowered her eyes.

 

“What if the small folk don’t like me? What if I bring trouble to my lord husband? I couldn’t stand it.” The lady put a wrinkled had on her shoulder and offered a reassuring smile.

 

“They already love you, dear. You have shown them your kindness during this difficult time and they will adore you even more when you give Harry a son.”

 

_Even a bastard is capable enough to bear a child for the heir._

“Nothing would bring me more happiness than giving him lots of sons.” She blushed and the lady smiled again.

 

“You’re innocent as the maiden herself, more than some highborn ladys.” She said with some disdain towards those ladys.

 

 _Innocent as the maiden. It was true some time ago._ Even now, she felt some kind of nostalgia when she thought of that time. Alayne would reveal herself as Sansa Stark before the wedding, but she would never return to be the girl she once was. She could not return, not after all the things she had been part of.

 

“What is it, dear? You look pale.”

 

 _Idiot._ She had lost her character for a second.

 

“I’m thinking… When will the wedding take place? I… I don’t think I’m ready for the ceremony or the… the be… bedding.” She lied, but the color rising through her face made it real.

 

“We will wait until the mourning is over, maybe other two or three moons. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about anything; women have gone through this for thousands of years and have survived. I’m sure our Harry will take good care of you.” The old lady was easy to deceive.

 

“Thank you, Lady Waynwood.”

 

Just then, Lothor Brune entered the room and announced Lord Baelish wanted to see his daughter. Alayne excused herself and followed the guard to her father’s room. She immediately offered him a kiss and he smiled at her.

 

“My sweet Alayne, you grow more and more beautiful every day. Tell me, how are going your lessons with Lady Waynwood?”

 

“Excellent father, she says I’m very talented.”

 

“I knew you would steal her heart as you did with the young Harry. Has she told you when the wedding will be held?” Alayne nodded.

 

“Two or three moons from now, father.”

 

“Of course, Lord Royce needs time to find a suitable excuse for you, dear.”

 

“He won’t find any, father.”

 

“I’m sure, but we have to get you married before the dragon fights against the lion and the rose.”

 

“Is the pretender a real dragon?” They have heard of the dragons residing at Storm’s End, but they weren’t sure if he was a real or how he would affect her father’s plans.

“So it seems, dear. We have to get you the Vale’s army before the dragon starts to move; they could ruin our plans. It depends on the development of the events. Meanwhile you have to keep Harry by your side.” Alayne smiled at her father.

 

“I’ll do my best father.”

 

“You’re a great daughter, dear.” He pulled her to him and gave him one of his characteristic kisses.

 

Alayne left her father and directed to the main yard to watch Harry during his sword training. Harry was one of the finest knights in the Vale and he trained every day to become better. Much of the respect and admiration he received from the lords and the small folk came from his ability as a warrior; as his lady, it was Alayne’s duty to praise him.  She was always on the first row and whenever he turned to look at her, she waved at him and threw encouragement words at him.

 

When Harry was done she rushed to handle him a towel and tell him what a great knight and brave man he was. He accepted her attentions with a bright smile and kissed her hand. Alayne could hear the whispers from the servants; in their eyes, they were a perfect couple.

 

Harry dismissed his servants and gallantly offered his arm to her. Alayne took it almost timidly. They walked under the careful stares of the lords until they reached the garden covered with snow where they used to spent time together. They sat on a bench and Harry replaced a wild lock of her dark hair behind her ear and Alayne blushed once more.

 

“You blush in a very pretty way, my lady.” He smirked. “Every part of you is pretty.” He added before raising her hand to his lips.

 

“You’re the kindest, my lord.”

 

“I’m a very lucky man, Alayne.” This time he leaned to her and gave her a chaste kiss. In another time, that would have been enough to melt her heart, but not now.

 

“I can’t wait to marry you, my lord. It is a dream come true.”

 

“In that case, it’s a shared dream. We should marry right away.”

 

“We can’t. Lady Waynwood told me we must wait until the mourning ends.” Harry made a pout.

 

“What does she know about love? I can’t stand being away from you any longer.”

 

_You can’t stand being away from my skirts any longer._

“Neither can I, but it’s not appropriate.”

 

“If we can’t marry at least let me know you are mine.” He traced her jaw with his index finger. “Become mine and show me you love me as much as I love you.”

 

 _And once you have taken my maidenhead, you will discard right away._ Alayne was sure that the only reason Harry was so obsessed with her was because she was one of the few girls, if not the only one, who had resisted his charm.

 

“I don’t think it’s appropriate. The lords would take me away from you.”

 

“They don´t have to know.”

 

“They are constantly watching us.”

 

“I will find a way.” Harry took her face between his both hands and gave her a more passionate kiss.

 

 _More work for Lothor Brune._ Alayne couldn’t refuse Harry, but her guard would find a way to protect her virtue.

 

“I’m yours, Harry.” He smiled. Yohn Royce interrupted their little date; he wanted to discuss something with Harry and obviously, Alayne wasn’t admitted during the reunion. She returned to Lady Waynwood and had dinner with her, revising her manners at the table.

 

After the lessons she went directly to her room and got ready to sleep. She was dreaming about the falling snows and a pack of wolves, a strange dream. She woke up suddenly; she had the sensation that someone was staring at her. She saw a shadow near her door and felt a struck of fear.

 

“Ha… Harry? Is that you?” She said in a whisper. It was not possible. Lothor Brune had received instructions from her father to keep any men away from her room. Plus, she form that moved into the darkness was way too small to belong to Harry. Before she could light up the lamp, the shadow moved quickly towards her. She felt a hand on her mouth, preventing her from asking for help.

 

“Don’t be afraid, I came to take you out of here, Sansa.” She didn’t recognize the voice, but the mention of her real name made her freeze. She tried to get free, but that someone kept her in place. “Calm down, it’s me, Arya.”

 

 _What kind of joke is this? Arya is dead._ She could see nothing at all.

 

“I’ll release you, but don’t try to run or shout.” The shadow got away from her and she didn’t move, not because she was obeying, but she was too shocked. The shadow lighted the lamp. She blinked at the light and looked for the shadow. The girl in fornt of her was holding her index finger before her mouth to indicate she must keep silent.

 

“Who are you?” Her question made the girl smile.

 

“Don’t you recognize your own sister?”

 

“My sister is dead.” The girl cocked her head to one side.

 

“Is that what Baelish told you? Look at me properly.” She stared at the girl’s face with some hope inside her chest, but that wasn’t Arya Horseface; this girl was prettier and her features were more feminine than her sister’s. She was about to ask for help, when she saw her eyes: gray as steel. And she understood the girl was telling the truth; she was Arya.

 

“A… Arya.” She cried.

 

“Sshh. We have to get out of here. Change into something else, riding clothes would be perfect and the warmest cloak you have.”

 

“But the guard will stop us.” She was clumsily moving through the room, trying hard to calm down.

 

“Don’t worry about the guard. Are you ready?” She nodded. “Fine, follow me and don’t make a single noise. We can talk after we get out of here.”

 

Arya took her hand firmly before putting out the light. A soon as they crossed the door she started to move faster without hesitation. She saw Lothor Brune sprawled on the floor. They got to the yard unseen and Arya directed her towards a door beside the stable. Once they went out of the castle Arya directed them into the forest. They ran in the middle of the snow for what seemed an eternity. When Arya finally stopped, she was out of breath.

 

“We made it.” Arya was staring at the sky. “She still has time.” Just then, she realized she had followed Arya without thinking, it had been crazy.

 

“What are you doing Arya? What are we going to do from now on? Maybe you can survive like a beast in the forest, but I’m going to die right away.” Arya sighed.

 

“You’re always so lovely sister. Do you want to return to be Baelish’s hostage?”

 

“I want to stay alive, Arya.”

 

“I’m not the wild idiot you think I am. I’m going to take you to safety.”

 

 “The last place away from the Lannisters in this kingdom is the Vale.”

 

“Not anymore. We have allied with the dragons. They want to offer an alliance to the Vale. Jon is waiting near Runestone with an army and ships.”

 

 _So you were hiding with our bastard brother. No wonder they never found you, no one would look for a lady in the Night’s Watch. Not that Arya is much of a lady._ Arya was wearing tunic and breeches and the dirtiest boots, she had seen.

 

“I don’t know if my…” The word father almost slipped from her lips. “Lord Baelish won’t be easy to convince.”

 

“I don’t give a damn about Baelish. We’ll speak directly to Yohn Royce.” She sighed with exasperation.

 

“You don’t know this people, he doesn’t know you and he won´t listen to our bastard brother.” Arya’s face twisted with anger.

 

“He will have to, because Jon isn’t a bastard, he’s a prince.” She almost laughed.

 

“Don’t be silly, Arya. We still can return to the castle, I’m sure they will allow you to stay.”

 

“I don’t want to become a hostage.” She had forgotten how difficult it was to deal with Arya.

 

“Lord Royce has no reason to listen to you.” After all this time, she had not learnt a thing.

 

“He will have to listen if he wants to see Harrold Arryn again.” That surprised her.

 

“Are you planning to abduct him?” She nodded.

 

“I came with a friend. She will bring him any minute.”

 

“She? Arya, what are you thinking? Harry is one of the greatest swords of the Vale; your friend will get killed.” Arya smiled.

 

“You don’t know my friend. Sit, you need some rest. I will keep an eye on the forest.”

 

They waited for an indeterminable amount of time. Every second made her feel nervous; there was no way Arya’s plan would succeed. They heard a sound and Arya unsheathed a sword before making a sound similar to an owl.

 

 _This is stupid._ But she heard the answer. Arya sheathed the sword and ran to the forest.

 

“How did it go?”

 

“Piece of cake, but we have to move before the shift change.” It was a woman’s voice. The woman whistled and three horses appeared. She stood up and moved to them; she couldn’t believe they have captured Harry. He was on the floor, his hands tied and messy hair. A woman with long black hair removed the gag from his mouth.

 

“Alayne? Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine Harry.”

 

“What is this?” He directed to Arya and the other woman. “Are you from the mountain clans? Let us go. I’m the Lord of the Vale; an army will come after us.” She moved towards him.

 

“Calm down Harry. They won’t harm us. She’s my sister.” She pointed Arya and Harry blinked at her.

 

“Were you a part of this Alayne?” Arya answered before her.

 

“Stop calling her that way. Her name is Sansa and she’s not the bastard daughter of Petyr Baelish.”

 

_I have to remember it as well._

“Sansa?” Harry was so confused that it was touching.

 

“Sansa Stark. You can’t trust Lord Baelish; he has been using me in his little game and my sister came to help me.” She couldn’t go back. The woman with black hair stepped forward.

 

“Lord Arryn, I’m very sorry we had to do this, but we couldn’t take risks with Baelish. I serve Prince Jon Targaryen, he and his family would like to form an alliance with the Vale. If you come with us, my prince will explain things properly.”

 

 _Jon a Targaryen prince?_ Sansa was full of disbelief.

 

“Alayne… I mean, Sansa. Can I trust this people?” Any other man wouldn’t have asked for her opinion.

 

“They won’t harm you, Harry.” He nodded.

 

“Lady, are you going to keep me tied?”

 

“My name is Cyara. If you promise you won’t try to escape I will give you a horse, Lord Arryn.”

 

“You have my word, Lady Cyara.” Harry gave her a killing smile, which produce no effect on her. The woman untied him.

 

“We better leave, now. Yohn Royce will follow us as soon as he sees my note.”

 

“I don’t see why we have to move. You could make your offer in front of my vassals.” The woman gave him a queer look.

 

“I don’t want to deal with your army without ours. Your horse, Lord Arryn.” The woman handed him the reins of a gray horse, before adding. “This horse is a good friend of mine, you won’t get too far with it and if you try to escape on foot, you will force me to use the bow.”

 

“I thought you wouldn’t harm me, my Lady.”

 

“Only if you behave, Lord Arryn. And I’m not a Lady.” Harry mounted in silence.

 

_Gods be good; she’s the perfect companion for Arya._

“Lady Sansa, you will have to ride with your sister.” The woman helped her to get on the horse, behind Arya. “Arya, you know the way. If something happens forget about me.”

 

“You’re always so pessimist.”

 

“I’m realistic.” She turned to Harry. “Follow them, Lord Arryn. I’ll be right behind you.”

 

“Where did Jon get his guard? She’s too aggressive.” Arya chuckled.

 

“She’s a wildling, but she’s loyal.”

 

“A loyal wildling? Has he gone mad?”

 

“I guess it’s good to hear your complaints again, sister.”

 

Sansa would have liked to say the same, but she was not sure. Even if she was riding towards the opportunity to recover her family, she didn’t feel happiness or relief; it didn’t seem like her rightful place. More than one time during the journey towards Runestone she wished to go back to the castle and discarded the idea almost immediately. She wasn’t Alayne Stone anymore, but she didn’t feel like Sansa Stark either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of trouble writting Alayne/Sansa point of view. I'm not very fond of that character, so it could have ended in a similar way Daenerys did.  
> I hope it wasn't a disaster.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	10. Unfavorable Agreements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A weekly update!!  
> I hope to continue like this, but i don't promise anything.  
> Enjoy the reading.

DAENERYS

 

Dany opened her eyes in the middle of the night; she had dreamed of the prophecy again. It was strange, because she hadn’t thought of it in quite a long time. To be honest, she wouldn’t have remembered what she saw at the House of the Undying if Moqorro hadn’t transmitted the message from the flames.

 

 _“The girl is dangerous, my Queen.”_ He ventured in a solemn voice.

 

 _“You don’t have to tell me, priest; she almost killed Aegon.”_ For some reason, she immediately thought of Arya Stark. _“But things have finally calmed down and she isn’t a threat for me, so you don’t have to worry.”_ She said trying to convince herself as well; it would be stupid no to be cautious with a Faceless Assassin.

 

 _“I’m not talking about the wolf girl, dear Queen. I’m referring to the one they call the Winter Maiden.”_ Dany shivered; there were no more conflicts between her other nephew and her anymore, but the wildling had always made her feel uncomfortable. _“There’s something unnatural about her.”_

_“How can you tell?”_ It was unimportant if she shared the priest’s opinion, if there was something… or someone to take care of, she must have proofs to show to Aegon… and Jon.

 

 _“I felt it from the very beginning, so I asked R’hllor for images of her and the god showed me an army of ice soldiers devastating the world. Listen to me, Queen Daenerys, she carries the winter within her, cold follows her wherever she goes, her soul is made of ice… and ice is the enemy of fire, your enemy.”_ She remembered. In the prophecy Dany was riding Drogon against an army of ice soldiers, which melted under the dragonfire; she hadn’t thought it real.

 

_“She brought my nephew here to meet the dragons and they warned us about the White Walkers…”_

_“That doesn’t mean she isn’t a servant of the Great Other. She could have a mission here.”_

_“Like killing my dragons?”_ The priest assented. Dany suddenly felt angry; she knew hoW to kill a dragon.

 

 _“That would shatter mankind’s hopes to survive what’s coming. She already killed the captain who was a servant of the Red God.”_ She hadn’t been fond of Victarion Greyjoy and his pretentions to become her king, but the priest had been sure he was meant to play an important part in the prophecy of Azor Ahai, since he rescued her from the siege of Meeren.

_“We can’t do anything to her; she has not given signals of betrayal. However I think it’s better to keep an eye on her, priest; that would be your task.”_

_“I’ll do my best, my Queen. Unfortunately, she has escaped from my reach.”_

Dany decided to entrust the mission to him and forget the matter until they could obtain more information. However, the conversation had been wandering in her mind since the party sailed to the Vale, almost two moons ago. The wildling had limited to defend Jon and Arya Stark, but Dany remained restless. It wasn’t healthy to believe in prophecies; they made her wary of everyone around her, but sometimes they became real… at least for her.

 

 _A treason for blood, a treason for love and a treason for gold._ The wilding was not related to any of those prophecies and the one about the ice army was very vague, then there was no way to ensure she was a threat.

 

 _Beware of the mummer’s dragon._ Her brother told her and she analyzed his words.

 

 _If Jon is a dragon… could she be the mummer?_ The priest told her, she might be a servant of the Great Other. She could be manipulating one of the dragon heads to destroy the other two. _What am I supposed to think?_ If she acted and the priest was right, it would be for everyone’s best; if the priest was wrong, it would grant her yet another conflict with her nephews.

 

Dany sat up rather violently as if that could clear her mind; she couldn’t stand her thoughts anymore. She felt Daario moving in her bed and then his fingers running through the bare skin of her back. That helped her relax a bit and she internally thanked him for his presence.

 

“My Queen is unable to sleep.” His hand had not abandoned her back.

 

“Sorry if I woke you. I have lots of things inside my head.” The room was completely dark, but Dany knew he must be smiling.

 

“I can’t sleep if my Queen is worrying alone, surrounded by darkness.” Daario took one of her hands and kissed the palm. “Is there something I can do for my Queen? If it’s a man what’s keeping you awake, you only have to say the name and I will kill him.”

 

“It’s not a man, but a woman.”

 

“Then I’ll kill _her.”_ Danny smiled.

 

“You can’t get rid of all the people that disturb my sleep; that would make an entire kingdom, my kingdom.”

 

“You don’t need them, my Queen. I’m the only subject you need.” He kissed her shoulder and Dany sighed with pleasure. “Tell me how can I help you?”

 

After a while, Dany decided to speak.

 

“What do you think of that Cyara girl?”

 

“You mean the Winter Maiden?” He asked, although he didn’t wait for her answer. “I rather like her; she’s beautiful, smart and looks pretty dangerous, everything I like in a woman.”

 

 

“Then go find her bed.” Dany frowned and pinched his hand until he chuckled.

 

“Don’t be jealous, dear Queen. There’s no one more dangerous or more beautiful than you.” Daario pushed her back to the bed and started to deliver kisses all over her body. She entangled her fingers in his mane and when he found her nipple she moaned, forgetting every treacherous prophecy in her mind.

 

 

 

TYRION

 

He was playing cyvasse with Black Balaq, while drinking dornish wine. The captain of the archers was a good player and Tyrion was having fun… or he would be having fun, if not for Strickland and his complaints and Jon and his concerns. He had made an effort to understand Jon’s situation, but he wasn’t ready to endure the commander’s cries.

 

_How can a fucking soldier be so whiny?_

After the first week, Strickland had locked up himself in his tent and almost no one paid attention to him. From time to time he got out to express how dangerous it was what they were doing and even dared to imply that Arya Stark and the Winter Maiden might have been killed by a beast or the cold and they should return to the castle in the Storm lands.

 

Jon was quieter, but he couldn’t stand still and Tyrion had had enough of his night walks and gloomy faces; he had decided to ignore him. Right now, he was rubbing his hands, pretending to watch the cyvasse match; however, it was clear he was not interested and the atmosphere he created made Tyrion uncomfortable.

 

“What is it?” Tyrion surrendered.

 

“I’ve been thinking we should have sent a messenger with them. What if they need to ask for help?” Jon answered quickly and Tyrion knew he had been waiting to bring out the topic.

 

 _Is he really a dragon?_ Tyrion had witnessed how he rode Rhaegal, but the third dragon head lacked of all the self-confidence his brother and aunt had.

 

“A messenger would’ve delayed them. Plus, they weren’t going to do anything dangerous so there’s no way they could need help; they were just going to observe the situation.”

 

“Why haven’t they come back yet?” Tyrion sighed and tried to remain as calm as he could. If the _leader_ was restless, he could transmit the feeling to the men.

 

“Who knows?” He shrugged. “They needed to rest, they found something interesting or the weather got in their way; winter is unpredictable.”

 

“Arya isn’t used to that kind of journey.” Tyrion frowned, his game was completely forgotten and the wine wasn’t good enough to make him feel better.

 

“But our Maiden is; she will take good care of your sister.” That didn’t calm him down.

 

_Maybe I wasn’t born to deal with princes… well; I guess he’s still way better than Joffrey._

“I’ll tell you what. If they don’t return by the end of the moon, we’ll go look for them.”

 

“Fine.” Was all the answer he received.

 

Tyrion didn’t want to move. They were well positioned, ready for a fast escape and two riders were better hidden in the woods than two hundred men, if an army was spotted, they would inform King’s landing. He wanted to believe in the ability of these two women; they have proven to be more capable than many men.

 

 _And more loyal than any soldier._ Fortunately, there was no need to move the campsite. They were finishing their monotonous dinner, when the lookout blew the horn to announce that someone was approaching.  Jon darted to the exit of the tent and Tyrion followed him more slowly. Ten archers were prepared to shoot if necessary. One of the riders shouted something unintelligible, but they recognized Arya’s voice and the archers retrieved their arrows.

 

As they came closer, Tyrion noticed there were more than two riders. One of them was a tied blonde man and Arya was riding with a brunette girl. Jon ran to hug his sister and Tyrion waddled towards Cyara, who was helping the blonde man to dismount.

 

“Who are they?” She pulled a face. The man gave him a curious look.

 

“Things got complicated… Robert Arryn is dead.”

 

_Fantastic._

 

“This is Harrold Hardyng, now Arryn, the heir to the Vale.” She pointed to her prisoner.

 

 _They weren’t going to do anything dangerous._ Tyrion had truly believed his words.

 

“You always surprise me, my Lady.” He laughed. Only Arya Stark would be bold enough to suggest kidnaping the heir to the Vale, because he was sure it had been her suggestion, and only the Winter Maiden would be capable enough to make it possible.

 

“We don’t have much time; the knights from the Vale must be right after us.” She spoke to the captain of the archers. “I want the arches to be prepared to receive them, not to attack them, but they must keep them away from the campsite.”  Black Balaq was one of the few men who respected her and he gave the orders immediately. She directed to another soldier. “Take him to a tent; give him food and a change of clothes. He is to be treated well… unless he tries to escape again.” Tyrion arched a brow. “What? I offered him the opportunity to ride freely and he rejected it.”

 

“You’re always so kind. I would’ve tied him from the beginning. Whatever, who’s the girl?” She had been standing silently near them, observing Arya and Jon; she had not paid attention to Tyrion; he talked to her.

 

“My lady, don’t be scared, we don’t mea…” She turned and the moment she saw Tyrion, she froze. Tyrion winced before saying, “Gods be good, I’ve finally found you, sweet wife.” Sansa Stark paled and looked for her sister.

 

 _Of course, I should have figured it out sooner. Only Baelish could have taken Sansa Stark away from my sweet sister’s reach. That little leech…_ Some things started to fit perfectly in Tyrion’s head. _I’ll have to save it for latter._

 

“Arya!” Sansa called her sister and she ran to her with Jon behind her. Based on Jon’s reaction, Tyrion knew Arya had already told him who the girl was.  Jon smiled and was about to hug her, but retreated almost immediately. He only put a hand on her shoulder.

 

 

“Sansa, it’s wonderful to see you again. Are you hurt?” Sansa looked between her siblings and Tyrion before answering.

 

“I’m fine, thank you, my bastard ha… cousin.” Jon took his hand away from her shoulder, he looked hurt.

 

 _Not even tragedy changed the way she treats Jon Snow._ Tyrion figured it was a reflection of Lady Catelyn’s treatment towards the boy.

 

“Could you tell me what is Tyrion Lannister doing with you?”

 

“Sansa, stop it. He is not what you think.” Arya’s words surprised him a lot.

 

“You’re being too cold, my lady. I’ve missed you so much.” She paled again and Tyrion smiled. Cyara cleared her throat.

 

“It’s really sweet to witness your reunion, but we have more important issues to discuss. May I suggest we enter your tent, Jon?” Jon nodded.

 

Cyara told them everything about Robert Arryn, Harry the heir and how she had incited Lord Royce to follow them. “Once he arrives, we can offer to get rid of Baelish for him in exchange of the alliance. If he refuses, we’ll keep the heir as our hostage.”

 

 _Harry the heir is the heir but Yohn Royce is the one the other lords follow._ He had to admit it was convenient to have the heir in their power.

 

“It’s a bit aggressive, but maybe he hates Baelish more than us.” Tyrion commented.

 

“What are we going to do about the betrothal?” Arya asked and Sansa looked Tyrion intensively.

 

“I don’t think we have to tell them who Sansa, really is. That way she could be free.” Jon said.

 

“Free? I’m Lady Lannister.” Tyrion frowned, he was getting angry.

 

_I never did anything to you. I even tried to protect you from my monstrous nephew._

“Dear wife let me remind you our marriage was never my desire and I’m not planning to force you to carry on with the farce.  As soon as this fucking war ends and the dragons sit on the Iron Throne, we can nullify the marriage.” He should have stopped there, but he wasn’t going to allow the little Lady to look down on him. He smiled. “It will be easy, since we didn’t consummate it… unless Baelish has by any chance mistaken you for your lovely mother or the heir has already gotten what he wanted from you.” Jon was pale and Sansa was dark red.

 

“Harry would never do that? He is kind, brave, strong and honorable; he’s the best sword of the Vale.” Sansa recited.

 

She had used the same words to protect herself when she was in the Red Keep, but there was something different in them this time. Tyrion wanted to see more of her reactions.

 

“Lady Cyara, how come you were able to subdue the best sword of the Vale?” Cyara didn’t seem to be fond of the young knight; Tyrion could only imagine the reason.

 

“He thought I was a maid trying to give him a night service. He was too busy unlacing his pants to realize I was going to tie him.” She turned to Sansa. “You shouldn’t think so high of him, Sansa.” Sansa didn’t even regard her.

 

“Jon, I suggest you reconsider the selection you made for your companions. I highly doubt a wildling is a proper guard for a prince, especially someone so impertinent.”  Sansa had suddenly changed her treatment towards Jon, as if she had never treated him as a bastard. Cyara and Jon kept silence.

 

“It’s enough, Sansa. We don’t know Harry the heir as you do, but remember what happened with the last person you thought so high of.” Arya Stark suddenly sounded older and wiser than a twelve year old girl; that softened Sansa’s expression.

 

“If Lord Tyrion promises he will nullify the marriage, is enough for me. I have nothing to do with your war.”

 

“I’m sure Aegon will allow you to return to Winterfell when the war ends.” Jon told her.

 

“That is if they win the war.”

 

“Sansa, you must be very tired. I’ll take you to our tent.” Arya stood up and took her sister.

 

“I don’t know how to say this… If I were you, I wouldn’t trust Sansa.” Jon didn’t say anything. “She has changed; I think she has spent too much time with Baelish.”

 

“You mean she wasn’t that lovely before?” There was some kind of bitterness in Cyara’s voice. She had made the mistake to treat her the way she treated Arya.

 

“We should prepare to receive Yohn Royce.” Jon changed the topic.

 

“I think we should speak with the heir. Royce seems to be interested in have him as the Lord of the Vale; he was going to allow him to marry a bastard girl. If we convince Harrold Arryn first, Royce could be easier.”

 

They ordered one of the soldiers to bring their _guest._ Harrold Arryn was wary at the beginning, especially with Cyara. Tyrion would have given anything to see how the Winter Maiden had put the arrogant knight in place. They told them about their plans and how the Crown would be eternally indebted to the Vale if he helped the dragons to recover the Iron Throne and he looked like he was really considering the offer. Young knights always saw glory in the war.

 

“Sounds interesting and I don’t enjoy those Lannister sitting on the throne.” He looked at Tyrion. “Of course you are different, my Lord.” He added.

 

“Of course I’m different, I’m a dwarf.” Harrold Arryn almost smiled.

 

“Could you convince Lord Royce?” Jon was being too direct.

 

“I could, but I want something in exchange.”

 

_He’s not a complete idiot._

“And what could that be?”

 

“I’m going to become the Lord of the Vale… a lord needs a proper wife.” He looked between Jon and Cyara before adding. “I want to keep the engagement, a daughter from Winterfell would be very appropriate.”

 

_Very appropriate, considering she is the heiress of the North._

“Taking on account our first meeting, I doubt you would be an appropriate husband for Sansa Stark.” Cyara told him coldly.

 

“I’m a man with certain needs, but I don’t have a wife to attend my needs… not yet.”

 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but Sansa happens to be married… with me. If you want a Stark wife, you’ll have to convince Arya Stark, which is more than improbable for someone like you.” Jon didn’t like the comment at all.

 

“She told me you promised to set her free after the war.”

 

“You talked to her?” Cyara was in disbelief.

 

“She sent me a note with one of the soldiers.”

 

 _Baelish’s teachings, I’m sure._ Tyrion was able to imagine what kind of things she had told to Harrold Arryn. The heir wasn’t falling in their game; he had been trapped in Sansa’s from the very beginning.

 

“Fucking soldiers.” Cyara mumbled. Apparently the soldiers were falling for her as well.

 

Jon was silently asking for his advice. Tyrion shrugged; he knew the promises made before the battles weren’t necessarily fulfilled after the war.

 

_Especially if the one at the receiving end dies._

 

“If Sansa agrees to marry you, I have no objection.” Jon conceded.

 

“I’m waiting to make her my wife.” Harry the heir said and even dared to smile to the Winter Maiden. He felt he had won an important battle.

 

 _He thinks he has gotten the rule of the North._ Tyrion smiled; the fool had granted Sansa Stark the rule of the Vale. Tyrion had started to appreciate his wife a little more. _Too bad our marriage won’t last; we could have made a wonderful couple._

 

 

 

AEGON

 

He was sitting in his solar with Lemore; the septa was giving him some lessons about the Faith of the Seven, but Aegon wasn’t getting a single thing. In a couple of days the two moon period Connington had given Jon to get information from the Vale would be over and they had not received notice of him ever since his party landed in a place named Runestone.

 

He got more and more anxious with every passing day, thinking of the worst case scenario. He didn’t like risking the soldiers’ lives in missions and he liked even less to risk his own brother. And deep in his heart, he wanted to know Cyara was alright.

 

Connington had been worrying about Arya Stark, and made the impossible to keep her away for Aegon, but for some reason, the man trusted Cyara, allowing her to spend a considerable amount of time with him. That, Aegon thought, had been a huge mistake. He had felt attracted to her since the first time he saw her, which wasn’t rare; half of the lords, knights and soldiers had felt the same way. Aegon had recognized this attraction and discarded it, until she became his provisional guard.

 

When Dany sent Jon to take care of the pack of wolves, Aegon ordered Duck to protect his brother and Connington almost lost his mind; because there was no one else he trusted enough to keep Aegon safe. They ended exchanging guards and Cyara became responsible of him.

 

Aegon had observed her and knew she was very silent, but he was a natural conversationalist, so he started talks rather frequently. To his great surprise, she answered him, especially when it was related to Jon. Aegon had found a good source of information about his brother and came to understand him better with her help. Every time they spoke, he realized she was pretty smart; he started to feel comfortable with her, not to mention she saved his life. Before long he had grown fond of her.

 

He was suffering because of the uncertainty regarding the Vale issue, the realization that he was complicating his life with an impossible romance and the agreement he had reached with Daenerys. They had talked a long time about the kingdom and how they should act from then on; what they decided seemed the best option, but he still had doubts.

 

“Griff, what’s wrong?” Lemore was the only one who continued calling him that way.

 

“Nothing.” She pursed her lips and closed the book. She took his chin to force him to look at her, like she had done a million times when he was little.

 

“Don’t lie to me. You didn’t even realize I stopped the reading a long while ago.” Aegon offered her a faint smile, she was the only mother he had ever knew; it wasn’t fair to make her worry.

 

“I’m thinking of Jon.” She smiled and mussed his hair.

 

“Your brother will come back safe and sound. You’ve always been very kind.” She was holding his face with both hands.

 

“Will you ever stop treating me like a child?” Her eyes sparkled with emotion.

 

“Not even when you become king.” He smiled back at her. She made him feel safe as he had when he was not a prince.

 

It didn’t last. Connington barged in the room with his angry expression.

 

 _He knows._ A king shouldn’t be scared of his Hand, but he was more than his Hand.

 

“Lemore, leave us alone.” She knew him well enough to avoid a discussion.

 

Connington glowered at him, waiting for him to speak first.

 

“What?”

 

“Aegon, don’t act like a child.” He sounded tired and Aegon felt a sudden guilt. “Why didn’t you consult me about it?”

 

“I thought it to be right.”

 

“Hand in the Throne to Daenerys is the right thing? I’ve done a great effort to bring you here and you’re ruining it.” Connington looked sad.

 

“It’s not forever. She will only be Queen until the seven kingdoms are truly reunited again. She has been fighting for this as well.” He tried to convey his true feelings.

 

“You hold the strongest claim; even Jon holds a stronger claim.”

 

“It is not about the _claim_. It’s about what’s the best for the people.”

 

“How exactly is Daenerys the best?”

 

“She has experience ruling a city and I realized I don’t know my people. I want to know them before becoming king. I want to go over every kingdom and help solve their problems there, not from an iron chair miles away. I want the small folk to know me, like they did with the previous Aegon.”

 

“You’re a lot like your father.” There was a strange mixture of concern and pride in Connington’s face. “What if Daenerys doesn’t abdicate once everything ends?”

 

Aegon understood. In Connington’s eyes, Daenerys was the reincarnation of Aerys Targaryen, the man who banished him from Westeros.

 

“She will. She’s my kin and I trust her.” Connington sighed.

 

“For your own sake, I hope you’re not mistaken.” Aegon nodded.

 

There were a lot of things to be worried about; so much that was out of their control. They couldn’t afford to continue making decisions based on the past.

 

_It’s time to move on._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm definitely incompetent to write Daenerys, but I need her point of view. I expect this time I didn't anger any of her fans.


	11. The Dreadful Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing my best to write the chapters fast, but I might keep this pace since my exams are about to start. What I can promise is that I'll keep writing till the end.
> 
> Maybe I dedicated too much of the chapter to the discussion with Royce, but I felt it necessary for the following events. Time will tell me if it was right.

ARYA

 

Sansa was soundly sleeping in the bed and Arya couldn’t get her eyes off her sister. She was afraid she would disappear if she lost sight of her.  Ever since she recognized Sansa, Arya had been feeling an uncomfortable amount of emotions. She felt surprised, happy, nostalgic, sad and very angry, because she had left the capital without her.

 

 _It was for the best, Sansa wouldn’t have been able to go through the things I did._ She repeated in her mind to convince herself. However her newest prayer had proven to be ineffective; she couldn’t deny the fact that she had abandoned a member of her pack to save herself. She could still hear her cries and the shouts of the crowd. _What would have become of me if I had stayed with her?_  She would have ended marrying Ramsay Bolton, she was sure of it.

 

Arya wanted to talk with Sansa about so many things. She would’ve liked to share the sadness they had to face alone, but she couldn’t find a proper way to approach Sansa. It was not just the time they were separated, time had left intact her relationship with Jon; Arya was aware there had always been a barrier between them, but she had hoped to break it.

 

After they saw each other for the first time, she used the urgency of the situation as an excuse to maintain her distance. Now, they were safe and she still couldn’t transmit her feelings. She wanted to tell her they would go back to Winterfell together and fight over stupid issues; she wanted to swear to her sister she would avenge their family personally. _Queen Cersei, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, the Boltons, the Freys._ She didn’t dare to do neither of those.

 

Cyara told her Sansa had manipulated Harrold Arryn in order to maintain their betrothal, so she wasn’t planning to return to Winterfell with her. And she couldn’t tell Sansa how she planned to avenge their family; Sansa would completely reject her if Arya confessed she was a master assassin; it was something Sansa would never understand. Arya had rescued her sister to lose her right away. 

 

 _Maybe this is the way things should be._ The time and the war had destroyed their lives; it was foolish to think they could recover what it was. If Sansa could finally find some happiness and peace in the Vale, Arya wasn’t going to snatch it away from her.

 

Sansa woke up, immediately turning to face her.

 

“What do you want, Arya? You have been watching me for a while; it’s weird.” Her voice sounded too clear for someone who had just woken up.

 

“Why do you want to stay in the Vale?” She blurted. Sansa didn’t look surprised by her question.

 

“This is what I know. I feel I have the control of what happens here.”

 

“Harrold Arryn doesn’t deserve you.” Arya didn’t like the young knight.

 

“I’m not that naïve anymore, Arya. I know he won’t be a faithful husband, but that doesn’t make him a bad person. He has never treated me badly.”

 

“You’re going to resign yourself to this kind of marriage?” Sansa looked her directly in the eye. Her blue eyes were beautiful.

 

“Life isn’t a fairy tale and I accept that. This is a good deal for me.” Her expression didn’t even change.

 

Arya felt incredibly saddened by her words. She had considered her an idiot because of the dreams she had, but those dreams were an essential part of Sansa. Listening her, talking so logically, broke her heart. Arya couldn’t stand it anymore; she moved forward to embrace Sansa, who surprisingly enough returned the gesture.

 

“I don’t like the idea of leaving you here. I feel like I’m abandoning you… again.” She confessed.

 

“Returning to Winterfell would be too much for me.” Arya wasn’t able to understand the reason. Sansa separated from her. “We never got along, but we can try before we have to separate from each other again.” Her sister almost smiled.

 

“Father would have liked that a lot.” Arya understood they had different ways to confront their pain and decided she wouldn’t try to stop her.

 

 _We’re still a pack, even if we are separated from each other or if we are fewer than we were at the start._ There had been eight members in her pack, counting her parents; there only remained three.

 

Arya said her prayer as she did every night. This time it wasn’t just for her, it was for Sansa as well.

 

 

 

JON

 

The snow stopped during the night and the sky was clear. They were waiting for their _visitors_ inside the main tent. Cyara was out waiting to receive Yohn Royce; it was very important for them to be able to speak with him first. Jon heard the horn and prepared for what was coming. There was a moment of silence.

 

“Where is Lord Arryn? I demand an explanation.” Jon didn’t recognize the voice, but it sounded strangely familiar.

 

“That was Royce.” Arya informed him.

 

“The heir is unharmed inside this tent, but I will only allow you to enter Lord Royce.” Cyara was using her perfected calm tone.

 

“That is insane.”

 

“We won’t harm you or the heir. We simply want to talk.”

 

“I’ll order my men to attack your camp.”

 

“Then you’ll force us to take the heir with us, Lord Royce.” The man doubted before answering.

 

“Fine, you better be quick.” The lord surrendered. Jon heard how Cyara gave some orders to the soldiers, who had the mission to stop the men Royce had brought with him.

 

Lord Royce entered the tent cautiously and relaxed when he spotted the heir. Harrold Arryn stood up to receive his vassal.

 

“Lord Royce, thank you for coming to pick me up.” He smiled widely.

 

“Don’t be fool boy. This people could kill you.” Harry shrugged.

 

“If they wanted to do that, they would have done it already. They have a proposal for us; as my advisor, I want you to hear them.” When the old man said nothing, the heir proceeded. “I believe you already know this man.” He signaled Jon.  Royce thought a moment.

 

“Ned Stark’s bastard.” Jon was expecting it, but Arya frowned deeply; she had never liked when people called Jon a bastard. Before she could protest, Tyrion did.

 

“Lord Royce, I know this will sound strange to you, but Jon Snow has never been a bastard. He’s a Targaryen prince; half-brother to Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name and rightful heir to the Iron Throne.” Yohn Royce said nothing; he just stared at Jon. He didn’t even look surprised to see Tyrion Lannister there.

 

“My brother sent me here to ask for the Vale’s support.” Jon paused. “I hoped the Vale remembered the friendship that existed between the Eyry and Winterfell.” He said cautiously.

 

“We fought along the North to depose the dragons, not to put them on the Throne. The dragons could be planning to take reprisal against us after they get the Throne.”

 

“That won’t happen, you have my word.”

 

“If you are who the dwarf said you are; your word means nothing to me. You have no right to speak in name of the North and ask us to respect a past alliance.” Jon recoiled at the man’s words.

 

“You should like Baelish a lot.” Tyrion offered.

 

“Baelish doesn’t control the Vale.” Tyrion smiled.

 

“I heard something different. Listen Lord Royce, I know you don’t hold any especial affection for the current king, but the Vale can’t fight against the combined forces of Casterly Rock and Highgarden alone. That’s why you haven’t done anything to depose Baelish.” Royce was stubborn; he wasn’t going to accept easily. It was clear the lord didn’t like Tyrion or Jon.

 

“Lord Royce, if you don’t want to trust Tyrion Lannister or Jon, which I find a great mistake because he has proven to be more of a Stark than a Targaryen, please listen to me. The dragons won’t act against the Vale if you give them your support.” Arya surprised him; she looked very calm.

 

“And you are?” Arya and Sansa were sitting next to each other; Royce made a face when he saw Sansa.

 

“Isn’t it obvious? She’s Arya Stark.” Tyrion told him.

 

“Arya Bolton, you mean.” Their resemblance was enough for Lord Royce.

 

“That was a false Arya.” She shrugged.

 

“Proper of the misleading Lannister Queen.” He turned to Tyrion. “Am I supposed to trust the dwarf as well? Catelyn Stark accused him of trying something against Brandon Stark and lady Lysa was sure he was the one who killed Jon Arryn.” That brought back bad memories.

 

 _It was all her fault. Lady Catelyn started everything when she abducted Tyrion._ His relationship with Catelyn Stark was always strained and he would like to express what he thought of her actions, but he didn’t want to hurt Arya or Sansa.

 

“My mother was blinded by pain and I heard aunt Lysa was not precisely emotionally stable.” Arya said.

 

"I don’t know about Bran, but I can assure you he didn’t kill Jon Arryn.” Sansa broke her silence.

 

“No one asked your opinion, girl.”

 

“Careful, Lord Royce. You’re talking to the future Lady Arryn.” Tyrion laughed. The man frowned before ignoring Tyrion.

 

“You seem interested in cooperating with the dragons, Harry. And I can’t deny must of us have been waiting the proper moment to act against the lion. I’ll accept this madness if you break your foolish betrothal with the bastard. If the _prince_ is going to take care of Baelish for us, I’m sure he can find something to do with his bastard daughter. Am I right?” For the first time he looked pleased. The heir spoke before Jon could.

 

“That won’t happen; she’s a part of the deal.” He didn’t allow Royce to protest. “I know, I know. A bastard is not a proper wife for me, but she’s not a bastard. She’s Sansa Stark.” Royce laughed.

 

“Starks keep appearing out of nowhere. I can tell the little one is a Stark, but this one is not Sansa Stark.”

 

“She is my sister, there’s no doubt.” Arya was getting angry.

 

“Fine, let’s say I believe you. She’s still married to the dwarf, isn’t she?” Royce was carefully examining Sansa.

 

“It wasn’t consummated; we’ll dissolve it once the war ends.” Tyrion shrugged.

 

“An empty promise. If you’re planning to pay the Vale with a Stark bride, Harry could marry the little one right away.”

 

“I won’t.” Arya stated firmly. “I’m afraid I wasn’t born to become someone’s wife.” She smiled to the heir. “I would kill him before the bedding.” Jon surprised a chuckle.

 

“Whatever.” The man looked tired. “I’m tired of fighting with you.” He turned to Jon. “Will your kingly brother visit us personally to let us know about his plans, boy?”

 

It was weird to be called that way again after being the Commander of the Night’s Watch, but Jon decided not to protest.

 

“Maybe, I will send him a letter immediately to inform him you have accepted to cooperate.”

 

“Although, it might be better for him not to come. I don’t think the knights of the Vale will feel comfortable with a dragon. If a Targaryen is going to guide them to war, it better be the one who looks like Ned Stark.”

 

 _Am I going to guide the army?_ Tyrion smiled at him.

 

“I’ll inform him, anyway.”

 

“Harry will call the vassals, but we have to return to the castle. The…prince and the ladys will be our honor guests.”

 

“But not the dwarf, of course. Not that I complain, the camp is more entertaining for someone like me.”

 

“It is settled, then.” Jon felt exhausted.

 

“Not yet. Lady Sansa mentioned something I’m interested in.” Royce wasn’t over with them. “How are you so sure, Tyrion Lannister didn’t kill Jon Arryn?” Sansa lowered her eyes.

 

“I heard lord Baelish talking with aunt Lysa…. he… he convinced her to kill her husband.” Tears were falling from her eyes. “I heard he plotted against my father and convinced Joffrey to cut his head.”

 

Jon felt his guts twisting with anger. When he looked at Arya, he knew she felt the same way as him. She was holding Sansa’s hand, trying hard to contain her rage, but said nothing.

 

“Seven Hells, girl. You have been in the Vale for almost two years, pretending to be his bastard daughter. Why didn’t you say a single word?”

 

“I was… he threatened me. He took me out of the capitol and told me he would return me to the Queen if I didn’t obey him. I had to stay quiet about all the things he did, even after he killed aunt Lysa and little Robert. He told me you would hold me guilty as well.” She covered her crying face with her hands; she was shaking.

 

“Did Baelish come with you?!” Arya shouted to Royce.

 

“He’s waiting outside. He came for his daughter…” Lord Royce’s anger was completely eclipsed by Arya’s reaction.

 

“He’s a dead man.” Fast as lighting Arya darted towards the door, unsheathing _Needle_ in the way.

 

“Arya, wait.” Jon stood up too late to grab her.

 

“Calm down first.” Cyara managed to stop her in the entrance. “This isn’t right.”

 

“I don’t care. He must pay.” Jon couldn’t recognize the Arya he was seeing. Her eyes were so full of hatred.

 

“Father would have judged him first.” Arya turned to him; there was something in her eyes that scared him.

 

“Yes, he would have done the right thing and that’s why he’s dead. I won’t allow that jerk to remain alive another second. Don’t you see what he has done to Sansa?”

 

He understood her feelings, but he couldn’t allow her to act that way.

 

“Have you considered his guards, Arya? Do you want to get killed?” Cyara hadn’t let go of her.

 

“What do you suggest?” Her eyes were colder than ice.

 

“Lord Royce, how many guards did Baelish bring with him?”

 

“Only five, must of them are mine.”

 

“He has more hidden among lord Royce’s guards, I’m sure.” Sansa was still sobbing.|

 

“Call him in. We’ll capture him here.” Jon decided. “Tell him his daughter is waiting for him.” Cyara exited efficiently to obey the order.

 

“Jon, Petyr Baelish is dangerous. Don’t talk to him, kill him or he’ll cause us trouble.” Sansa was almost pleading.

 

“I agree, lady wife. We should end Baelish, but I’m sure he can tell us a bunch of interesting things.” Sansa froze; Jon could only imagine what kind of things Sansa knew about Baelish.

 

“Aegon will judge him fairly when the time comes.” Arya had returned to her seat beside Sansa when Cyara entered again.

 

“You took your time, Royce. I…” He saw Tyrion and lost his words.

 

“Don’t try anything, lord Baelish. Sansa Stark has already told us everything. The prince will take you as his prisoner and the Vale will be free of your existence.” Royce stated. Baelish directed to Sansa.

 

“Alayne, Alayne, Alayne. I thought I had taught, better. Do you think these people will look after you better than I did?”

 

“That isn’t your decision, _Petyr_.” Baelish tried to control himself, but he was completely cornered.

 

“So, I’m going to become a prisoner of the dragons? I’d like to talk to the dragon prince personally.”

 

“You’re talking to him.” Tyrion made a gesture towards Jon and Baelish paid attention to him for the first time.

 

“Excuse me, but you hardly look like a Targaryen at all.”

 

“As Arya said, I resemble my mother more than my father.” Jon retorted. “I’m here in name of my brother Aegon.”

 

“Then, prince…”

 

“Jon.”

 

“Yes, Prince Jon. If you grant me a private audience, I’m sure we can come to an agreement that will satisfy us both.”

 

“My advisor tells me that is not wise at all. Plus, there is nothing much for us to discuss.”

 

“Your advisor is Tyrion Lannister?” Baelish said in disbelief. “What a peculiar selection.” Tyrion smiled.

 

“My old friend, you haven’t realized who you are talking with, have you?” Baelish looked a bit confused. “For years he was known as Ned Stark’s bastard. No matter how hard you try to convince him, he is not going to listen to you.”

 

“Enough, you’ll be sent to my brother and be judged by him. The guards will take you to a cabin in the galley and you will stay there.” He turned to the guard. “He won’t be mistreated, but no one is allowed to speak to him, understood?” The guard nodded to him. He would deal with Baelish later, now he had to focus in the Vale. “Lord Royce?”

 

“We can depart for the castle in the morrow, my knights need to rest.”

 

“Please point Baelish’s guards to the captain of my army, after that, I’ll be honored if you accepted to share dinner with me and my sisters.” It was the last thing he wanted to do right now, but he had to build a good relationship with the old man and the heir. He noticed Baelish was taking his time to follow the guards.

 

“I told you they weren’t that bad old man.” Harry smiled and Royce rolled his eyes at him.

 

“You did very well for an inexperienced prince.” Tyrion offered.

“I’m done with politics.” Baelish was still inside the tent.

 

 _What does he want?_ He moved towards Jon.

 

“Prince, I can’t deny my sins… however I would want to redeem myself.”

 

“I doubt you can do that.” The man’s eyes sparkled cunningly.

 

“As an apology for what I did to your honorable father, I’ll share important information with you.”

 

“And that would be?”

 

“I can tell you the name of the person who betrayed Ned Stark to the Queen.”

 

 _What?_ Baelish saw the surprise in his face and continue speaking.

“Didn’t you know? He was about to escape the capitol with his daughters, no one knew, not even the spider. Someone close to him informed his plans to the Queen and she captured him and killed everyone else. Don’t you want to know the name?” Tyrion stiffened next to him.

 

“Cyara, get him out of here, now.” Tyrion directed a desperate look to her. She moved from the entrance towards Baelish. “If you want to know, I’ll tell you later, but you better silence him now.”

 

 _He knows._ He couldn’t react. _A northerner betrayed my father._ He couldn’t believe it.

 

“Come on, I can tell Arya Stark wants to know.”

 

“Cyara…” She reached Baelish too late.

 

“Sansa Stark. She told Queen Cersei about her father’s plan to leave the capital. She sold her father to become Queen.”

 

“THAT’S NOT TRUE! LIAR!” Arya shouted.

 

“You don’t believe that Arya Stark. You know as well as I do.”

 

“Take him out of here…NOW!” Tyrion ordered.

 

Jon couldn’t believe the man’s words. He was too shocked; everything started to move slowly in front of him. Tyrion was cursing while Cyara pushed Baelish out. Royce and Harry were speechless, looking between Arya and Sansa. Arya was looking directly to Sansa and tears were freely flowing through her face.

 

“You didn’t… right?” Her voice was a plea. Sansa was shaking in the chair; suddenly, both of his sisters looked younger and more fragile.

 

“Arya, I…” It was all Arya needed to hear. Her face changed quickly to rage and she charged against Sansa. Arya was over Sansa, pulling her hair and slapping her as she cried.

 

“HOW COULD YOU?! TRAITOR! You should have died in his place.”

 “Stop it, Arya.” His voice was almost inaudible.

 

Royce tried to stop Arya and he earned a broken nose. Harry got a purple eye when he tried to defend his betrothed. Jon wanted to do something, but he wasn’t able to move. Tyrion didn’t even give it a try. Only Cyara managed to separate her from Sansa. Cyara was standing between both of them.

 

“Enough, Arya.” Arya was panting.

 

“Step aside or I’ll kill you.” She unsheathed _Needle_.

 

_Why did I give her that thing?_

“Then what? Are you going to kill your own sister?”

 

“She killed her father.”

 

“I won’t let you pass. Don’t force me to hurt you, Arya.” Arya doubted and Cyara moved fast to take the sword, then she hit Arya in the head and his sister fell unconscious to the floor.

 

“Lord Arryn, Lord Royce, could you please take lady Sansa to her tent? Someone will be sent there to give you medical treatment.” They lords obeyed her without hesitation.

 

Cyara walked to him and slapped him.

 

“Wake up. Arya could have killed her and you didn’t move a finger.”

 

“Thank you.” He muttered.

 

“Well, that was interesting.” Tyrion commented.

 

“Do you think so? If you knew you should have told us. This was a disaster.” Jon felt angry and sad for what had occurred.

 

“At least you succeeded in your mission.”

 

“Leave, Tyrion. I don’t want to see you.” Tyrion moved as fast as his legs allowed him.

 

Jon picked up Arya and directed to his tent.

 

“Come with me.” He told Cyara.

 

He put Arya in his bed and collapsed in the chair beside it. Cyara gave him a cup of wine and he drank it in a single swallow.

 

“I had never seen her like that.”

 

“We don’t know people as well as we think… not even family. I barely know her, but Ned Stark’s death affected her deeply. I kind of understand her reaction, although it doesn’t mean I think it was right.”

 

“What was Sansa thinking? Arya will attack her again as soon as she awakes.”

 

“Baelish got what he wanted.”

 

“What was it?”

 

“He isolated Sansa and weakened your family bond. I think it would be better to separate them … Arya might be better back at Storm’s End.”

 

“I won’t separate from neither of them. You can keep an eye on Arya and stop her if necessary.” Cyara sighed.

 

“Jon, I can’t take care of the three of you at the same time. You think too high of me.”

 

“Forget about me.”

 

“I can’t do that.” Her big aqua eyes told him everything.

 

_Fuck the prophecy._

 

“Please.”

 

“Why do you do this to me?” He didn’t answer. “The best I can do is return with Arya to Storm's End. You’ll stay here with Sansa and that way both of them will be protected.” She surrendered. “Is that enough?”

 

 _More than I expected._ She always ended up giving him what he wanted. _I’ll repay her one day._ Jon promised to himself.

 

“Fine, I’ll go to heal Sansa and the lords. I think you should talk to her when she wakes up.” Cyara left and he studied Arya during a long while.

 

 _How can I help you, little sister? How can I heal your pain?_ He wasn’t able to heal his own pain.

 

He decided Arya wouldn’t wake up in a while, so he started to write to inform Aegon about what had happened. He felt the urge to talk to his brother; maybe he would know what to do.

 

_Aegon,_

_I write this letter to inform you that my quest to the Vale has succeeded…_

He stopped. It didn’t feel like a success. Aegon would thank him for what he did, but it wouldn’t change what happened that day. He had failed to protect his sisters, he had failed Ned Stark.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aegon will return next chapter and I think I'll tell more about Cyara's backstory.  
> I hope it is still interesting.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	12. Neglected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprisingly I finished before a week time. I don’t know whether that is a good or a bad thing.  
> Enjoy the chapter.

SANSA

 

 _“TRAITOR! You should have died in his place.”_ She heard Arya’s words over and over again. They hurt, even more than her physical attacks.

 

 _If they had listened to me and got rid of Petyr right away…_ She could have taken her shame to the grave. Sansa had secluded her guilt deep in her heart where it couldn’t torment her. Of all the terrible things she had been made an accomplice, what she did to her father was the only one that haunted her and made her feel miserable.

 

She remembered her talk with Arya. They used to fight a lot and what they shared was close to nothing, they were so different and still, when her sister hugged her, Sansa felt a kind of warmnth that erased the loneliness she had been living with. She had felt a genuine happiness when she saw Arya and Jon. She dared to believe she wouldn’t be alone anymore.

 

 _It’s over._ Her loneliness was rooted deep in her soul again.

 

The wildling drew her from her contemplations.

 

“I’ve prepared a hot bath for you.” For a change, she wasn’t looking at her the arrogant way she always did. “We don’t have maids; if you need help I can…”

 

“I can do it myself.” Sansa interrupted her; she wanted to keep some dignity. The wildling nodded slowly.

 

“When you’re done I’ll heal you.” She left as silently as she came.

 

She undressed to discover her arms and stomach covered with bruises, not that it was the first time. She didn’t want to imagine the state of her face.  Sansa waited until she was fully immersed in the hot water to release the first cry. Her tears stung the places where Arya had scratched her and she realized those were the first real tears she had shed since her mother was killed.

 

The water turned cold before she found the strength to get out of the tube. She dressed slowly and carefully brushed her hair. When the wildling returned it was as if she hadn’t been crying. In complete silence, the other woman looked after the wounds in her face and hands. She left and came back with a bowl in her hand.

 

“Drink it. It will lessen the pain.” The brew smelled weird and she couldn’t suppress her suspicion. The woman rolled her eyes. “As you wish.” She set the bowl aside. “I’ll be outside. Lord Arryn said he would want to visit you if you felt better, should I call him?” The wildling never used titles when she referred to her.

 

“No.”

 

_Harry can wait._

“Is Arya awake?” The wildling frowned. “I’d like to talk to her.”

 

“She’s awake, but I don’t think it is wise for you to see her now.”

 

“That’s not of your concern, bring her.” Sansa noticed a hint of anger in the wildling’s face.

 

_She doesn’t like receiving orders._

 

“I’ll tell Arya you want to see her, but I won’t drag her here.”

 

After an eternity Arya entered her tent. Sansa instinctively lowered her eyes. Arya sat across from her, in front of the table.

 

“I apologize for hurting you.” Those words filled her heart with hope, until she looked up.

 

Arya’s eyes were swollen, bright red and lacked emotion. The sense of guilt was about to overflow; she had to control herself before speaking.

 

“Arya, forgive me, please. I did something terrible, indeed, but I was young and stupid. You can’t hate me for the rest of our lives… I thought we were going to try to get along.” Arya fixed her cold Stark eyes on hers.

 

“Get along, for real?” Sansa didn’t answer and Arya continued in a tone so calm and so low it was scary. “Sansa, this goes further than any of our pointless, childish fights. Do you even realize all the lives your selfishness ended?” There was something wise and mature in Arya’s attitude, which made Sansa feel like the little sister.

 

“Do you think I wanted all that to happen? How was I supposed to know that Cersei and Joffrey were that evil?” Arya blinked.

 

“They wanted to cut me a hand, they made father kill Lady, they chopped Myca into pieces, and they murdered Wyl, Heward and Jory.  What else did you need to understand?” Back then, she had fervently denied Joffrey’s responsibility regarding those actions, but now, the truth carried within those words left her defenseless.

 

_I was blind._

 

“If you were going to judge me that way, why did you come?” She tried to defend herself.

 

“I came to apologize to you, the way I reacted was the worst, but that doesn’t mean I’m forgiving you…I don’t want to forgive you.”

 

“Does that mean you’re going to kill me?” Arya turned away from her.

 

 _She would have done it already._ Sansa had heard the rumors in the camp; the soldiers said Arya was a Faceless Assassin. If that was true and she wanted Sansa dead, it wasn’t something difficult for her at all.

 

“No. It means I don’t want you to approach me again.” It felt like the air had completely left her.

 

“I need you Arya. Didn’t you say the lone wolf dies?” Sansa contained her tears.

 

“Father was wrong; all these years are the proof that we are perfectly capable of surviving alone. I have nothing else to say.” Arya stood up and left without looking back.

 

Sansa stared at the entrance of the tent for a long time. An irreplaceable part of her life had left and wouldn’t come back. That realization made her feel weak and defenseless as the girl that left Winterfell a long time ago.  She felt the wildling’s eyes on her.

 

 _A wildling feels sorry for me._ On another time, she would have expressed her disgust at that kind of insult. How dared a filthy wildling to pity a daughter of Winterfell. However, she needed desperately to cling to someone, anyone.

 

“I swear it wasn’t my intention. I was stupid, but I never wished anything harmful to happen to my family.” The woman looked uncomfortable, but she kept talking. “They listen to you; please tell them not to hate me.”

 

“They don’t hate you.” She responded after a moment of doubt.

 

“They won’t talk to me again.”

 

“You betrayed their trust, it can’t be helped.”

 

She couldn’t sleep that night. Memories and bad feelings assaulted her without rest. She had talked to Harry and he assured her, he didn’t care about what had happened, his _feelings_ for her hadn’t changed and he wouldn’t judge her. That didn’t matter to her at all.

 

 _His feelings towards Winterfell, that’s what hasn’t changed._ She had already understood that no one would be interested in her for whom she was, but for what she was and Sansa was the key to the North. She could be as cruel as Cersei, but the idea of ruling over the North would represent a stronger interest.

 

She looked for someone to accuse for her disgrace, it wasn’t difficult. _It was their fault. Cersei and Petyr and Varys and the Queen of thorns used me as a pawn; I danced every tune they played for me. But I’ve learned; I’ve become a player._ That thought filled her with determination. _I’ll play the Game and I’ll build a new place to replace the one I lost._ She decided before wiping her tears one last time and made an effort to sleep.

 

The next morning, when she examined herself in front of the mirror, her eyes were swollen and red. Despite her determination, her own pitiful image made her think of Arya’s deplorable state when she visited Sansa the day before. Only the gods knew how much her actions had hurt her. Sansa thought for a moment…there was something important she had to do.

 

 _I’ll redeem myself first, even if forgiveness never comes, I won’t let them become someone else’s game piece._ Being so close to the Crown was dangerous.If her father or mother or Rob had had a good player by their side, things would have ended in a different way. She thought of all the things she learnt from Petyr and she outlined her plan. She knew who she needed and how she had to deal with them.

 

“I need to ask you something, Cyara.”  The change of manner towards the wildling produced the reaction she had expected.

 

“I won’t bring her again.”

 

“I don’t want to talk to _her_.” The wildling narrowed her eyes.

 

“I won’t bring him either and I won’t pronounce a word in your favor. They are too hurt as it is.”

 

_You care for them. Good._

 

“I want to talk to you.”

 

“About what?”

 

“What I did can’t be changed.” She shrugged. “However, that doesn’t stop me from worrying for them. They are walking a dangerous path and it will get worse the closer they get to that Throne.” She had gotten her attention.

 

_She’s not an idiot; she was already aware of it._

 

“Those two are as vulnerable as my father was back then, Faceless Assassin or not.” Cyara didn’t look surprised at the fact that she knew about Arya.

 

_She has been observing my actions as well._

“I know how things work _there_ , I learnt from one of the best. If you listen to me, we can keep them away from the dangers of politics.” Cyara arched a brow.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay married to Tyrion?” Sansa offered her a smile.

 

“Does that mean I’ve convinced you?”

 

“I’d love to become your toy, but I won’t stay here much longer. I must go back to Storm’s End.”

 

_Which places you in a wonderful position._

“It couldn’t be better. My hands will be full with a hawk and a lion here.” Sansa smiled to her once more. “I’ll let you handle the dragon.”

 

 

 

AEGON

 

“This is insulting. I can’t believe you accept this.” Connington was scolding him… for the tenth time that day.

 

“I don’t see how it is that bad.” He shrugged. “We’re not going to marry.” Connington glowered at him.

 

“She doesn’t show any consideration towards your position.” Aegon rolled his eyes, exasperated.

 

“She can do whatever she wants; I’m not going to stop her. She’s the Queen.”

 

“Which kind of Queen fucks a filthy sell sword?”

 

“That isn’t related to her ruling abilities.”

 

“She’s dishonoring the Targaryen name. The lords who wanted to gain her favor will feel insulted.”

 

“She has already married twice for the sake of politics. I think she has the right to choose happiness at least once.”

 

“It’s unacceptable. I won’t tolerate her degrading behavior.” Aegon was reaching his tolerance limit.

 

“Degrading?  You only say that, because she is a woman.”

 

“The whole castle condemns her actions.”

 

“They have no right. What if the positions were reversed? If I were to present them with my lover, they would be praising my manliness.” He realized too late the bad choice of words he had made.

 

“When did you…? Idiot boy, I warned you about that. Please don’t tell me is Arya Stark?”

 

_What?_

“I only saw her once, before they departed. I have nothing going on for her or any other woman.” That was only half true.

“Don’t lie to me. We better put an end to the situation, before it gets out of control.”

 

“I don’t have a lover. I was simply trying to state something.”

 

“Please don’t do anything stupid.”

 

 _It is not like I can control the way I feel._ He thought sadly.

 

“I won’t, I promise.” He answered instead. The look in Connington’s eyes told Aegon the man didn’t believed him, but Aegon didn’t want to keep hearing his reprimand. “If you excuse me, my cousin is waiting for me; she wants to show me a letter from my uncle.”

 

Aegon ran away before Connington could say another thing.  

 

The place he got to wasn’t any better. Arianne and the sand snakes were as wroth at him as Connington, because he decided to favor Daenerys as the main governor. As soon as they saw him, Obara and Elia left the room.

 

“My father was very happy to know the Greyjoy captain was not a problem anymore and he says he would like to meet your little brother.”

 

“I don’t think Jon will be able to visit Dorne soon.” Aegon wasn’t sure he considered it a good idea.

 

“It is a shame.”

 

“Could you answer something with full sincerity?” He doubted before asking.

 

“I thought we were always honest with each other, dear cousin.”

 

“Does my uncle plan to do something against Jon? You know, because he is the son of the woman that my father chose over his sister.”

 

With her characteristic elegance, Arianne leaned forward to pinch his cheek and kiss his forehead. Aegon smiled; after he met Arianne, Lemore told him Rhaenys might have looked like the princess if she had lived. When he spent time with Arianne, he dared to think it would have been the same way with his sister.

 

“Don’t you know already that dornish are different from the rest of the people in Westeros? Your brother is innocent from whatever the romance between his parents brought to Elia.”

 

“For real?”

 

“Of course. I’ve told my father that he is a good man. He wants to know him better… I also want to know him better.” The way her eyes shone when she said the last told Aegon how Arianne wanted to _know_ Jon.

 

“Cousin, I don’t think he is the kind of man to please you.” He blushed lightly and Arianne laughed.

 

“Don’t be so sure. Sometimes the quiet ones are the wildest.” Aegon allowed himself to smile.

 

“Anyway, my father says he has called the Lords. The dornish spears are at your service.” She paused and her dark eyes pierced Aegon. “However, that was before you recognized Daenerys as the Queen. Dorne vouches for you, not for her.”

 

“We’re fighting together.”

 

“The dragon and the sun always had a strained relationship even before she killed Quentyn.” She sipped her wine, spying on his reaction behind the cup.

 

“She wasn’t there when Rhaegal did it.”

 

“The dragons obey her commands.”

 

 _No, dragons respond to blood... and something else._ Quentyn had dragon blood as well, but the dragon wasn’t meant for him. _Rhaegal had been waiting for Jon._ Aegon was sure of it. _Dany is the mother of dragons, but only one of them belongs entirely to her._ Arianne wouldn’t understand that. 

 

“I am a dragon as well.” He said instead of what was in his mind.

 

“You’re only half a dragon.”

 

“Then, will he retrieve his support?”

 

“No, but be sure we won’t hesitate to act against Daenerys if she tries something to remain on the Throne more than the necessary.” It was a beginning. His uncle and cousin might never like Dany, but they were cooperating.

 

The door opened and Connington everything but pushed Duck out of his way.

 

“Do you ever knock, Lord Connington?” Arianne didn’t like to be interrupted.

 

“Excuse me princess, this is urgent.” He bowed slightly. “It’s from your brother.” Connington handed him a letter with the three headed dragon. It was difficult to open the letter with his shaky hands. Aegon hoped to receive good news, but life was unpredictable. He started to read carefully.

 

_Aegon,_

_It took us more time than we had thought and a lot of unexpected things occurred; Robert Arryn died before we arrived and Arya found out Sansa, my cousin, had been in the Vale as Baelish’s prisoner._

_You don’t have to worry though, since we managed to turn these circumstances in our favor with minimum damage. The Vale accepted to support our cause in exchange of the Royal pardon regarding the Rebellion issue and a marriage. Harrold Arryn, the new Lord of the Vale, asked to marry Sansa. They also ask that you, as the rightful King of Westeros, judge Petyr Baelish for the crimes he has perpetrated against the Vale, the North and the Riverlands. I will be given the command over their army, but it would be suitable if you sent someone who is completely aware of your future plans to guide me._

_Finally, I need to ask you a favor. Before being imprisoned, Baelish did something that deeply affected the relationship between Arya and Sansa; I got to the conclusion that separating them would be the best for everyone. I know that Lord Connington will be against this, but I want to send Arya back to Storm’s End._

_Jon_

The letter was brief and lacked of emotion, which was characteristic of Jon, but was enough to get him worried. Aegon wasn’t focused on what the letter said, but what it didn’t. He wanted to know about the negotiations and the details. He wondered what could be so bad that Jon decided to separate his sisters. Jon adored Arya; he would never separate from her voluntarily, not after the time they had been separated.  His brother should be worried for the two girls and Aegon couldn’t do anything for him.

 

 _And what did he mean with “…we managed to turn these circumstances in our favor with minimum damage.”?_ Innumerable ideas started to cross his mind. _Was there a battle? Did men die to reach the agreement? Was Jon hurt?_ His mind rifted towards Cyara; she wasn’t mentioned in the letter. _Could she be the **minimum damage** Jon wrote about? _

“Aegon!” Arianne and Connington were looking him at him with evident worry. “What happened?” Connington was paling. Aegon shook his head and handed him the letter. Aegon returned to his reflections while Connington read the letter.

 

_Don’t be idiot. There’s no point for Jon to write about her and I shouldn’t be thinking about her._

“These are good news. Why would you make that kind of face?”

 

“I don’t know what happened, but Jon must be worried for his cousins.” He lied.

 

“Well, it’s a shame, but it is good that he managed to get the Vale on our side.”

 

“Will you allow Arya Stark to return without him?”

 

“If she promises not to cause trouble, I won’t object.” Connington might be very pleased with the outcome of Jon’s mission, because he didn’t warn him to stay away from Arya Stark.

 

“Who are you going to send to help him?” Connington thought.

 

“I’ll go myself.”

 

“But you’re my Hand.” Aegon sounded like a little child who didn’t want to share with his little brother.

 

“Princes do not need a Hand.” His title wasn’t a matter of a coronation anymore; he had stepped aside to name Daenerys Queen. “There’s no point for me to stay here if you’re going to ignore my advices.”

 

“Is this some kind of revenge because of the issue with Daenerys?”

 

“Don’t be childish. Someone needs to guide your brother. I don’t trust Tyrion Lannister enough to do so.”

 

“I’ll go as well.” That response had high possibilities to produce a discussion.

 

“You can’t, dear cousin. My father will send his army soon. You must be here to mediate the things between Dorne and Daenerys.” There was no way to deny that. If he wasn’t there to reconcile both parties, things could get tricky.

 

They held another war council that afternoon considering the additions of Dorne and the Vale to their forces and they came out with the plan to attack King’s Landing. Everyone was in high spirits, even Daenerys looked pleased. Aegon, however, felt something was going wrong, something he couldn’t understand.

 

He understood two days later, when Connington boarded the ship to the Vale. He and Connington were always arguing about something and sometimes Aegon considered him a nuisance. Now that he was finally free from his reprimands, it felt weird. Without Connington by his side, Aegon felt vulnerable and lonely.

 

 

 

ARYA

 

“NO! I WON’T!”  She turned around and left the tent.

 

“Arya, come back.” Jon called, but she ignored him.

 

She walked quickly through the camp without paying attention to the poor souls that crossed her path. She was so angry, she was about to cry. Arya wiped her tears furiously and realized she didn’t know where she was going. She wanted to beat something or someone; she needed to vent her anger. There was only one person who could face her rage without getting killed. She headed north to look for Cyara.

 

Cyara was standing quietly in the middle of a clearing, she had her eyes closed and Arya didn’t make a single noise, but she noticed her presence. Cyara turned and waited for her to speak.”

 

“Fight with me.” She picked up two sticks from the snow and threw one at her.

 

“Again? Give me a break.”

 

“Don’t complain. I’m the one who gets beaten.” She adopted her posture.

 

It had been a fortnight since she heard the truth and her anger hadn’t faded a single bit. The only way she had to maintain her emotions controlled were her _training_ sessions with Cyara. They were more of a massacre; Cyara was superior and her rage didn’t allow her to think properly, so she ended beaten up more often than not.

 

“You don’t have to bear Jon’s disapproving stares when he finds out I hit you.”

 

“I’ll deal with him.” She charged against her opponent with full strength and as expected she dodged it and hit her in the shoulder. She tried again and again with similar results. She ended up lying in the snow of the clearing completely drained, but she was thinking clearly again.

 

“You knew, didn’t you?” Cyara sat beside her.

 

“To be honest, I was the one who suggested it. We were only waiting for Connington’s approval.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I think it is better for you and him. Being around her clearly affects you and he suffers because he sees you in this kind of state.”

 

“Then he should come back with me. Connington can take care of everything alone.”

 

“He won’t abandon Sansa.”

 

“He is too noble. Sansa will use him, I’m sure. I won’t abandon him with her.”

 

“You have no reason to worry. Tyrion and Connington will guide him.”

 

She didn’t want to go away from Jon, he was the last piece left of her family. She knew he would stay in the Vale, because it was his duty to do so and she couldn’t stay the way she was now by his side because it was hurting him. Arya didn’t want to hurt him.

 

“I shouted at him. I told him I won’t do it, but I think he knows I will do it anyway, for his sake.”

 

“He knows you’ll do the right thing.” Arya closed her eyes and nodded. She tried to think about something else.

 

“What were you doing before I came?”

 

“I was trying to hear the old gods.”

 

“Don’t you need a weirwood?”

 

“The old gods live inside every trace of nature. Weirwoods make it easier, but aren’t indispensable if you know how to listen. It is not a two way communication, without the face, though.”

 

“Did you hear them?”

 

“I did.”

 

“What did they say?”

 

“They were sad because of what happened with you, Starks. They say it’s not the time to split up.” Her anger was returning.

 

“Then the gods know nothing.”

 

“You can’t be worth forever.”

 

“I can and I will. I’ve told Jon and I’ll repeat it as many times as necessary. She’s not my sister anymore and I don’t care for her.”

 

“You’re exaggerating.”

 

“She chose _them_ over her own family… she has hurt me in a way that can’t be repaired.” Arya had lost her heart after the Red Wedding, but managed to recover some of it when she found Jon; that small piece was now shattered and would stay that way for the rest of her life. The betrayal made it too difficult to breath and there was a new void inside her.

 

“You say that because the truth was painful and the pain is recent, but deep in your heart you know her betrayal wasn’t intentional. When the time comes, you will forgive.”

 

“How dare you to speak about it?!” She was angry once again. Arya hated her logic and how she seemed to know it all. Arya stood up. “You don’t know how destructive it is to be betrayed by your own family.”

 

“I do know.” She answered lowly.  Arya stopped and frowned.

 

“You’re trying to trick me.”

 

“No, I’m not. Do you want me to tell you how I ended beyond the Wall?” Her curiosity surpassed her anger and she sat again.

 

“If you lie, I’ll know.” Cyara looked directly into her eyes, to show her she was honest.

 

“I lived in Pentos with my uncle, his wife and son. There was a huge inheritance left by my father. They wanted the gold and I was in their way.” She shrugged. “My cousin took me to see the snow and left me there hoping I would die.” Her usually calmed eyes turned stormy. “The fucking cowards didn’t even have the decency to kill me, because they were afraid the gods would curse them for killing their own kin.”

 

“It doesn’t sound like you have forgiven.”

 

_You have no right to ask me to do so._

“No, I haven’t. But think about it, there are treasons which are worse than others.” It was Cyara who stood up this time; she went into the forest instead of returning to the camp. Arya stayed where she was.

 

 _Treason is treason, no matter if it is performed for the sake of love, gold or power._ Arya Stark didn’t forget that easily.

 

 

 

 

 


	13. Remarkable Women

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so long this time. I had a lot of things I wanted to add in this chapter and I found it very hard to express some of them properly. The bright side is that this is the longest chapter I've written. 
> 
> Lord+of+blogfell, thank you for your enthusiasm, I'll do my best to write faster.
> 
> Please enjoy.

TYRION

 

His young wife looked incredibly beautiful; she was wearing a light blue dress and a cream-colored cloak, presents from Harrold Arryn. Her hair was neatly arranged in an elegant hairstyle, which framed her delicate features. For someone who had recently suffered an important loss, she looked radiant.

 

 _We’re still married and she’s already using Arryn colors._ It could be very well a way to let him know she held no respect for him.

 

She was strolling around the camp holding Lord Arryn’s arm and smiling at him; they have been following the same routine ever since she recovered enough to leave the security of her tent.  Escorted by her betrothed she visited the knights who served the Vale and the soldiers from the Golden Company; she told them how brave they were and how grateful she was because they were going to bring justice for Ned Stark. That was enough to put the men at her feet. One could think the incident with her sister would make things difficult for her, but she had found the way to become the victim of her pained sister, the cunning Lord Baelish and the evil Lannister dwarf.

 

 _A promising candidate to become the next Cersei._ He thought bitterly. _No, if Baelish taught her properly, she’ll be a lot more intelligent than my sweet sister, therefore way more dangerous._

 

A person in his position should have felt nauseated by her actions, but not Tyrion. He felt extremely amused; the transformation she had suffered was radical, he liked that sort of metamorphosis. There was a little person though, who was getting increasingly disgusted by Sansa Stark. Arya saw a new insult in every smile and a confirmation of the betrayal in the way she acted, like she regretted nothing. Jon was more confused than disappointed by her behavior.

 

Arya had been reluctant to return to Storm’s End at the beginning, but after the performance she witnessed every day, now, she was almost pleading to leave. She spent the last couple of days secluded with her brother, waiting for Connington’s arrival. In fact, everyone was waiting for him. They had decided not return to the castle until Connington reached them; lots of movements would drag more attention.

 

Another day passed without change. Tyrion spent most of the time observing his wife flirting with another man and playing cyvasse with Blaq Balaq, one of the few men who still talked to him. He returned to his tent before midnight, feeling the cool air sharp as a sword. He was about to light the lamps when he heard her voice.

 

“I wouldn’t do that; they will realize we’re both here. I’d prefer to keep this a secret.”

 

_I expected being betrayed by the guards, but not this early._

“Have you decided _Harry_ doesn’t satisfy you? Did you come to beg for my forgiveness?” There was no reason for minding his words with her.

 

“I came to hear about the dragons from the mouth of an intelligent man. You might not believe it, but I respect you.” He wasn’t in the mood to reply to her comment, so he just followed her lead.

 

“Why do you want to know about them?”

 

“I want to set up favorable circumstances in the Realm for the remaining Starks. I need information to decide my movements. ”

 

_How direct…_

 

“After what you’ve done to them… which kind of reasons do you have, I wonder.”

 

“Redemption.”

 

 _Interesting._ He felt the impulse to play the game with her.

“I have no reason to help you.”

 

_You’ll need more than your beautiful face to deal with me and you know that._

 

“Of course, but I could tell you the name of the soldiers who allow me to enter and the identity of the hidden Baelish´s employees.”

 

“Interesting, but I think I can figure out by myself.” Tyrion wanted so bad to see her expression. She didn’t speak for a while.

 

“I know who murdered Joffrey. I believe we could deal with that common enemy together” Tyrion began to imagine.

 

 _Now she wants us to become allies._ He laughed. _This might become enjoyable._ It was like asking to be killed, but he liked that kind of play. It wasn’t the first time he risked his life in the Game.

 

“I certainly want to know who was kind enough to set this world free from my monstrous nephew. I’ll tell you everything I know about the dragons. You’ll have to decide if you can trust me.”

 

“There’s one more thing…”

 

 _Here is where the issue becomes tricky._ Tyrion was doing his best to predict what was she would ask for.

 

“I want to know how to gain the wilding. She seems to trust you.”

 

 _I should have thought about it._ A loyal _servant_ was a useful rarity and Cyara was known for her loyalty towards Jon and Arya.

 

“You want to use her as your piece?” Tyrion thought for a moment. “For what I know, she’s already someone else’s piece.”

 

_A god’s piece._

 

“Everyone has a price.”

 

“The only thing she’s concerned about is your siblings. Even if you use that, you won’t get to control her.”

 

“Do you know that because you have tried to drag her to your side?”

 

“I didn’t but if you try, your siblings will know immediately.” She sighed.

 

“I guess it can’t be helped. She would have been a marvelous addition to my followers.” The tone in her voice told him she wasn’t that disappointed.

 

 

“Are we going to spend the night talking about dragons? Someone will notice your absence.”

 

“My dear husband, Lord Arryn’s betrothed has been sleeping in her tent since nightfall.” Tyrion laughed and looked for a chair in the darkness.

 

“It will be a real shame to let you go.” He groped for the table to serve some wine. He might enjoy talking with her.

 

Tyrion woke up after the sun reached its peak; his respect for Sansa Stark had increased considerably.  He had spent the night telling her about the things he had observed among the dragons, everything under the protection of the darkness. She listened until the end before asking questions and giving her opinion. He found the talk quite interesting; she even told him about some of Baelish’s lessons. Sansa left before dawn with the promise that they would speak again, this time about those who had accused them of murdering a king.

 

He left the tent decided to find something to eat. He crossed Sansa and Lord Arryn in his way and neither of them paid attention to him but he smiled. Before long he realized he was being followed and directed to the woods. There he stopped and confirmed his suspicions; it was Arya Stark.

 

“Have you finally decided you want to kill me?”

 

“There are others I’m more concerned about.” She was wearing her assassin expression; she had been wearing it more often after she confronted her sister.

 

_Is your sister one of them?_

 

“Then what is this about?”

 

“Cyara wants to talk to you about something and she wanted me to make sure you weren’t followed. She’s by the stream.” She moved her head to show him the right direction.

 

“Why so suddenly?”

 

“We’ll finally split after sunset.” She read the confusion in his face. “She said the grumpy Hand will arrive anytime today.” She shrugged.

 

“How does she know?” He was feeling curious.

 

“The old gods told her.” Arya Stark smiled and disappeared.

 

He found her in front of a fire, roasting her recent catch. “Could the gods tell you where the whores go?”

 

“The gods rarely say more than one word.”

 

“They don’t sound like the cooperative type.” She shook her head and offered him a trout.

 

“Was it a pleasant night?” Tyrion stared at her. “The one you spent with Sansa, I mean.” When he didn’t answered she added, “Arya has been watching her closely, I know she has been…recruiting for her cause. I believe I was the first.”

 

“The fact that we spoke doesn’t mean I’m working with her.”

 

 _Will I be mistrusted for the rest of my life?_ She smiled at him; sometimes she was able to read others’ minds.

“If I didn’t trust you, do you think I would have answered your questions? I simply want to know what she told you.” It was strange for him, not to be treated with permanent distrust. He took his time before answering.

 

“She told me she wants help to protect her siblings.”

 

“Yes, she told me something similar. She insinuated I could serve her to look after the dragons.”

 

_You could do much more than look after one of them._

“She asked me about them, the dragons.”

 

“Do you think she’s being sincere?”

 

“Who in this world is completely sincere?” She gave him an impatient look and he sighed. “I can’t tell. She certainly learnt well from Baelish; she acquired dangerous skills but I don’t know whether she will use them in their favor or for her own benefit. She has changed a lot.” She nodded.

 

“I don’t have time to discover which one of those is the real deal. If we don’t leave soon, Arya is going to kill her for real. She should be more discreet with the things she is doing. ”

 

“Does Arya know about her _recruitment_?”

 

“She’s not stupid.”

 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have told her about the strain among the dragons.” He had found the talk amusing but it could have been a mistake.

 

“I do not think so, if you keep talking with Sansa, you might figure out her real intentions.” Cyara closed her eyes for a second and when she opened them again she looked more resolved. “I’ll warn Connington and if you notice anything going wrong you’ll tell him immediately.”

 

“Shouldn’t I inform Jon first?” She snorted.

 

“That kind fool doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation.” She looked worried by the thought. “Connington isn’t the subtlest man in the world but he’s one of the few who genuinely wants to protect him.” Her words reminded Tyrion of something he had been curious about.

 

“You know, I’ve been thinking, won’t you tell him before you leave?” He asked with a bit of malice.

 

“About what?” She was concentrated in her food.

 

“That you love him.” She lifted her head slowly; her widened aqua eyes carried an expression he hadn’t seen before.

 

 _Not the reaction I expected but it’s still interesting._ He didn’t want to be mean but love had become a joke in his life and he found her reactions amusing. Cyara was no longer staring at him; she was frowning like she was trying to solve an odd riddle. _Perhaps she wasn’t aware of it._

“Aren’t you going to deny it?” He asked and she looked more confused than upset.

 

“Why do you think that?”

 

“The way you take care of him, I guess.” He shrugged. “And don’t say a word about your duty.”

 

“I don’t understand why you bring up this sort of things.” Tyrion waited for her to continue. “I’ve been too busy to even consider the possibility.”

 

“But you aren’t denying it.” He pressed on.

 

“If it were as you said, would it change something? Would it make this … journey easier for us?” She was finally upset.

 

“I don’t think so.” In fact, it could make it things more difficult.

 

“Then my answer is irrelevant.”

“You’re right; it’s just that you’ve become sort of my favorite pastime.” Cyara rolled her eyes and their discussion was finished.

 

 _Your answer might become relevant once the dragons recover the Iron Throne, especially if the Silver Prince turns out to be as reckless as his father._ They still had to win the war but Tyrion could already visualize the conflicts that had been building up since she got to Storm’s End.

 

 

 

ARYA

 

Cyara was right, Connington arrived shortly after she and Tyrion returned to the camp. She was surprised; although not surprised enough to recover her faith in the old gods.

_Death is the only god I recognize._

She observed the crew disembarkation with indifference while the others seemed thrilled.  They had been waiting during days but she hated the sight of the ship; it meant she would separate from Jon again. It would be worse this time because she will leave with the permanent concern of what Sansa might be plotting.

 

_But if I stay, I’ll hurt him._

“Are you still mad at me, little sister?” Jon was mussing her hair with a faint smile on his face.

 

“I’ll be angry at you until the end of my days.” She returned the smile. “The last thing I want is to become a trouble to you.”

 

“I’ve never considered you a trouble, Arya.”

 

“Don’t be fool; even father said I was a pain in the ass.” He laughed for the first time since she returned from the Eiry. That compelled her to laugh as well.

 

“I doubt he would have used such words.”

 

“No he wouldn’t have.”

 

She smelled Sansa before seeing her and the smile vanished instantly. As usual, the heir and Lord Royce were by her side; they were very wary of Arya. She had apologized to them, but it hadn’t been enough for their hurt pride.

 

 _Just a few hours and I won’t have to see her treacherous smile again._ She breathed slowly. _Calm as still water._

“I take that man is Lord Connington, dear cousin.” Sansa was pointing the man riding behind the banner with the griffins in it. Arya clenched her fists until it hurt; she hated the way Sansa called Jon _dear cousin_.

 

“He is, indeed.” Jon held Arya’s hand to keep her under control.

 

“It will be a great honor to meet the Hand of the King.”

 

“I wouldn’t be that excited; he doesn’t enjoy Stark girls.” Arya muttered.

 

“Maybe he only despises the wild Stark girls. Unlike you, I’m not the spitting image of aunt Lyanna.” Sansa retorted in the same muttered voice. Arya glowered at her.

 

“We’ve been waiting for you Lord Connington.” Jon greeted.

 

_You’ve been saved by the grumpy Hand, Sansa._

“You’ve done a good job, boy.” Connington had dismounted and was clapping Jon’s shoulder.

 

“Thank you Lord Connington.” Jon looked a bit uncomfortable. “Allow me to introduce you to my cousin Sansa Stark of Winterfell, Harrold Arryn and Yohn Royce. Lord Arryn, Lord Royce, this is Jon Connington, Hand of the King.” Connington winced.

 

“Some things have changed but we’ll talk about that later.” He turned towards Sansa. “I’m pleased to meet you, Lady Sansa, Lord Royce. Lord Arryn, we’re looking forward to join forces with the Vale.”

 

_Even the grumpy Hand knows how to be diplomatic._

“Finding justice for my love is the only thing I care for.”

 

Suddenly, Arya felt the urge to add _Harry’s_ name to her list.

 

“Your enthusiasm is well appreciated Lord Arryn.”

 

“Lord Connington, maybe you can discuss war related issues during dinner and…”

 

“Connington, may I have a word with you?” Cyara appeared and interrupted Sansa without any consideration. “In private.” She added. Sansa wasn’t pleased.

 

“Cyara, you’re being disrespectful. The last thing lord Connington wants after the long journey is to hear you.” Arya chuckled when she saw Cyara rolling her eyes; Arya wasn’t the only one exasperated. “Lord Connington, I’ve tell my dear cousin a hundred times he should reconsider the selection of his companions.”

 

“You don’t have to apologize, Lady Sansa.” Connington answered patiently before regarding Cyara. “What is it, girl?”

 

“It’s related to the Prince’s safety.” That convinced Connington.

 

“My Lords, Lady Sansa, excuse me please. I’ll join you as soon as I’m finished with this.” He followed Cyara.

 

 _Good._ It could only mean she had decided to warn Connington about Sansa.

 

“This will take time, if we don’t head for dinner, we’ll freeze waiting for Connington.” She pulled Jon.

 

“Do you know what this is about?” He asked.

 

“I’ve no idea.”

 

“Arya…”

 

“What? She had her serious face and I saw her speaking with Tyrion before.” She whispered; Sansa was right behind them.

 

“And why can’t any of you tell me about it?” At least he was whispering as well.

 

“You never listen.”

 

“Is this about Sansa?” He wasn’t completely naïve.

 

“No. I really don’t know. I’m just guessing.”

 

“Whatever, I won’t get you to tell me.” He sighed.

 

As soon as they sat at the table Sansa started to complain.

 

“This is unacceptable, Jon. We have been waiting for him and he runs to speak with _her_.”

 

“None of them meant any offense, Sansa.”

 

“Not everyone is going to obey you like an idiot.” Arya told to a piece of bread.

 

“You know Arya…”

 

“Excuse me, your Grace.” Fortunately for her, Black Balaq interrupted Sansa’s speech. “Lady Arya, the Hand has requested your presence.”

 

 _Directly to hear another speech, I’m sure._ She preferred Connington a hundred times over Sansa. She stood up.

“Good thing you had no idea.” There was a note of resentment in Jon’s voice.

 

“Surely this is the regular _stay away from Aegon_ thing. You might want to start the meal without us, Lord Royce.”

 

“Sorry for the wait.” She recited as she entered the tent.

 

“You called her?! What are you thinking?!” Connington shouted when he saw her.

 

“You’ve seen what kind of substances she carries. She might be able to help you.” Cyara was talking defensively.

 

“Why can’t you help me like the last time?”

 

“It’s a great risk, one I won’t take again. You want to see Aegon on that Throne, don’t you?”

 

_Is he dying?_

“What is this about?” Arya stared at the both of them.

 

“Show her; she might be your last hope.” Cyara incited him.

 

Connington stared at Arya for an indeterminable amount of time and she held his stare. Finally he closed his eyes as a sign of surrender and slowly removed the glove from his right hand. He held that hand in front of her to confirm her suspicions; he was dying.  The greyscale had extended beyond the first phalange from the middle finger, the nail from the index finger had turned completely black and the ring finger was in a similar state.

 

“You know this has no cure.” She said.

 

“Useless, I told you.” He spitted to Cyara.

 

“Maybe I can delay it. How much time have you been carrying this?”

 

“Almost two years.” He growled.

 

“Consider yourself lucky, you should be much worse.”

 

“She made it retreat last time.” Arya raised a brow.

 

“The old gods?”

 

“Sort of.” Cyara wasn’t going to speak in front of the man.

 

“I’m not sure how much time I can get you.”

 

“I only want enough time to see Aegon on the Throne and your cousin well stablished.”

 

Arya extracted a vial and an envelope from her clothes. She prepared an infusion with a portion of the herbs from the envelope and a poultice with wine and the powder from the vial. Connington reluctantly drank the infusion and applied the poultice all over his right hand. Cyara covered it with a thin linen bandage before putting the glove on again.

 

“This feels disgusting.” He complained.

 

“You’ll have to do it every night from now on. If it surpasses the hand, the sickness will spread faster. Oh, and you should use vinegar instead of wine for the poultice.” Connington took the vial and shook it.

 

“This doesn’t look like it will last.”

 

“I’ll give you my full reserve before leaving; hopefully it would last until the end of the war.”

 

“If you utter a word about this…”

 

“I won’t as long as you protect my brother.”

 

“You don’t have to ask. He’s as important as Aegon.”

 

“Then I hope I have granted you another decade, Lord Hand.”

 

“They sent someone to summon both of you for dinner.” Cyara had been watching the movements outside from the tent.

 

“How are we going to explain this long absence?”

 

“Let’s say you threatened me to stay away from your Silver Prince.”

 

Arya walked with Connington to the tent where the others were waiting. He suddenly broke the silence.

 

“The way I’ve been treating you, I apologize for that.”  His face was unreadable and Arya didn’t know how to respond.

 

_His soul is already being consumed by his imminent death._

“You’re nothing like your aunt.”

 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She said before they reached their destination.

 

Arya barely ate; she hadn’t been able to dismiss the fact that she would get away from Jon again. The act Sansa was putting up made her nauseous. She also thought of Connington and his unexpressive face; hiding his worry for both of his friend’s children.

 

 _Prince Rhaegar must have been very important for him._ The thought softened the image she had of the man.

 

“Your Grace, my lords, the ship is ready.” Her heartbeat accelerated when she heard those words. She instinctively reached for Jon’s hand.

 

Only Jon, Connington and a small escort would see them off, the rest would prepare for the march towards the Eyrie. Before riding her horse she got a quick look of Sansa and she ran to her. In front of the surprised faces of the spectators, she hugged Sansa.

 

“If you dare to act against him, I’ll give you the slowest, most painful death you can imagine.” She whispered in her ear and let go of her. “See you, Sansa.” This time, everyone could hear her. For one time, Sansa was out of words.

 

The trip was shorter than she would have liked. The idiot Jon smiled at her every time their eyes crossed; she had to make a major effort to stop her tears.

 

When they got to the ship, Connington approached to her.

 

“Remember Daenerys has full control of everything now. Don’t do anything stupid.” She rolled her eyes and the man left to shout orders.

 

“Don’t risk yourself, idiot prince. The raven will flay me alive if something happens to you.” Arya heard behind her.

 

“I won’t.”

 

Jon turned to see her.

 

“I’ll miss you.” They said at the same time. She hugged him with all her strength as he stroked her wild hair.

 

“It feels like I’ll never see you again.”

 

“It won’t be for long. This time we’ll return to Winterfell and rebuild it together. I won’t leave you alone again, I promise.”

 

Arya squeezed him before releasing him definitely and dragged Cyara to their cabin. She was as pale as she was the last time they boarded a ship.

 

“He was lying.” She was certain.

 

“If he said he will take you to Winterfell, he will do it.” Cyara was already laid down on the bed.

 

“Yes, he will.”

 

 _But then he will return to the Night’s Watch to honor his vows. That is the kind of man he is._ It made her immensely sad, but she had known it from the beginning; that was the reason she had been reluctant to return to Storm’s End. Arya wanted to make the most of the time they had left. That night, Arya found herself wishing that the dragons would never get the Throne.

 

 

 

CYARA

 

Arya entered the cabin with a tray in her hands. Her face maintained the disheartened expression she had been wearing since they set sail. Her young companion looked so bad; Cyara forgot for an instant her own condition.

 

“Are you still thinking about it?”

 

“He won’t break his vows to the Watch.”

 

_He already broke them twice._

 

“He would break them for you. He was stabbed after he announced he would march to Winterfell to rescue you.”

“He wouldn’t have stayed with me.” In that, Arya was right; Jon had always returned to the path he was supposed to follow.

 

“Maybe this time, he will.”

 

Cyara couldn’t be sure, but time had its way to change things. After a long time away from the Night’s Watch, he could decide not to return. On the other hand, not even the death of his family or his love for Ygritte was enough to turn him into a deserter. She remembered her last talk with Tyrion.

 

 _Fuck you Tyrion._ He had set unnecessary thoughts in her mind. _I’ll make him pay the next time I see him._

 

“I can only hope.” Arya stared at her. “You should really eat something.”

 

“I’m definitely not in the mood for eating.”

 

“What’s with you? You look worse than the last time.”

 

It was indeed worse than the last time. There were no memories, just the overwhelming fear, desperation and helplessness she had felt all those years ago while she wandered the lands beyond the Wall. The raven had taken that away together with her humanity when she made an oath to serve him and now that she had strayed away from the _plan_ , he was returning them. Cyara had spent the past nights hunched in her bed, shaking because of the fear.

 

 _I’m a complete idiot. I shouldn’t have heard Jon; we should have just taken the damn dragon and run away with it. It would have been the easiest thing if he had warged into the beast as I told him._ Jon had been against that course of action and they had ended up trapped in the reconquer of the Iron Throne. _More and more complications._ And now, Brynden was torturing her for complicating everything. However, Cyara had to admit she had used Jon to hide her own will to do it the right way. _I brought this on myself_.

 

“I think is my punishment for disobeying the raven.”

 

“Can he do that?”

 

“He can do whatever he wants with his servants.”

 

_Not that he has lots of servants._

“We’re miles away from the Wall.” Arya looked surprised.

 

“He’s quite powerful.”

 

“Not enough to save my family.” Arya had a rare talent to relate everything to her family.

 

_It wasn’t a matter of power. He only cares for what he needs and his plans only included Brandon and Jon._

“Things don’t work the way you think. The raven is not able to do anything on his own; he observes everything and then gives orders according to what he has observed.”

 

“He decided not to help my family.”

 

_They weren’t essential to fulfil the prophecy._

Her one and only assignment had always been the promised prince. She saw what the raven showed her from the other Starks and she hadn’t pay attention to any of them; they were working for a greater good, after all. Now, that she had been close to two of them, she wished she had been strong enough to defy the raven and change what had happened; she would have borne the consequences.  However, hearing her regrets wouldn’t calm Arya’s rage.

“He never gave me the order.” Arya nodded and remained silent for a moment, like she was assimilating the information she had received.

 

“Is the raven really a bird?” Cyara smiled because of the question; Jon had asked the same. They were more similar than they knew.

 

“No, he’s a man.”

 

_Or what remains of him._

 

“And he taught you all you know?”

 

“No, he never liked me a lot.” _I was the only option._ “I learnt everything from the children.”

 

“Like magic?” She looked excited. “Is that what you used to cure Connington?”

 

“I tried. When I was there, I saw them healing with magic. I memorized the words but since I don’t have magic of my own, I had to use a different source of magic, a dangerous one. I guess that is the reason it didn’t work properly.”

 

“What was the source of the magic?” Arya had the expression of a little child waiting for the end of the nighttime story.

 

“Will you keep it a secret?” Arya nodded quickly.

 

Cyara took _Heartfreezer_ ; she had taken to call the sword that way since Arya asked for the name. She unsheathed it carefully and put the grip in Arya’s hand. The blade emitted an icy shine when Arya examined it.

 

“Don’t touch the blade.” She warned.

 

“Is this…? Where did you get it?” Her steel eyes were completely widened.

 

“I took it from an other after I killed it. I thought that if the children got to take a look at it, we could figure out a better way to fight them. I wasn’t able to take it to them though; right after that I received the order to save Jon. I…” She stopped. She was speaking a lot. It wasn’t like she couldn’t trust Arya but she was surprised by the fact that she was speaking so freely.

 

“What is it?”

 

“I feel like I’m speaking a lot.” Arya gave her a wolfish smile.

 

“You are, but I don’t think it is a bad thing though. You stopped shaking. Are you feeling better?”

 

She had come to appreciate Arya’s company a lot when she was being tormented by her fears. Unlike Jon or Tyrion, Arya felt like someone who wouldn’t judge or pity her or be affected by the things she could confess, a good listener. And there was something in Arya that reminded Cyara of herself; not only the girl that grew up in Pentos, but the one that rejected the past in order to avoid the pain it carried.

 

“I’m the one supposed to take care of you.”

 

“You can’t do it in that kind of state.” She made a pause. “So have you used it in a fight?”

 

“You’re a big fan of swords, aren’t you?”

 

“I am.”

 

“I used it to fight those who tried to murder Jon. It’s quite a unique item.”

 

The rest of the journey was filled with stories about mummers, wights, wildlings, whores and hard learnt lessons. Cyara realized the raven could only maintain the control he had over her if she kept isolating herself and allowed him to torture her. She had made a decision.

 

_I won’t be a tool anymore. Brynden can complain all he wants; I’ll do what I feel right._

When they were making the way back to Storm’s End Castle, Arya seemed uneasy again.

 

“Is it my turn to distract you from your worries?” Arya stopped her horse.

 

“I’ve been thinking. When this ends, are you coming with us to Winterfell?”

 

“I certainly have to return to defend the Wall.”

 

“And after that?”

 

“I have no idea.” She hadn’t thought that far in the future.

 

“I you have nowhere to go, you can stay at Winterfell.”

 

“Oh, Arya.  You can’t replace your sister with me.”

 

“If I wanted to replace Sansa, I would look for Margaery Tyrell or another Lady.” She frowned. “I’m asking you as a friend, you could become the captain of the guard or something.” She felt moved.

 

“It would be an honor.” Arya smiled and urged her horse.

 

 _If the gods allow us to survive the War._ She wasn't thinking of the conflict for the Iron Throne.

 

They crossed the entrance to the castle completely drained; the snow got heavier every day. She dismounted and took Baelish directly to see the dragons; they had to get rid of him as soon as possible or he would find a way out of his situation. For once Arya obeyed and went directly to her room. Baelish affected her deeply.

 

“Hello, Duck.” She greeted when she opened the door to the small hall. The Queen was waiting accompanied by Aegon and Princess Arianne and her most trusted guards.

 

“The Queen is a bit impatient.” He warned her.

 

_What is it that she hates so much about me?_

“Queen Daenerys, I’ve brought Petyr Baelish to be judged according to the agreement we reached with the Vale.”

 

“What are the charges?”

 

“He plotted to murder Eddard Stark, Jon Arryn and Joffrey Baratheon. He kept Sansa Stark as his Hostage. He murdered Lysa Arryn and her son in order to take control of the Vale against the will of the inhabitants. The Lords of the Vale request him to be executed.”

 

“Sounds like he has been acting for my benefit.” Daenerys smiled.

 

“Dany…” Aegon reprimanded her.

 

“It was a joke, Aegon. Lord Baelish, what can you say in your defense?”

 

“Queen Daenerys, this man has a great talent to deceive others. I highly recommend that you don’t listen to him.”

 

“I’m not easy to deceive. Which kind of justice could I impart if I don’t hear both parts?”

 

“You’re right, Your Grace but this man is an exception.”

 

“I don’t make exceptions with my people.” She tried to keep calm.

 

“Queen Daenerys…”

 

“Cyara, your judgement is clearly biased.”

 

_My judgement is biased? What a bad joke._

 

“You must be very tired. You’re excused for the day, go to rest.” Cyara looked support in Aegon and he averted his eyes.

 

_Damn fool, this is your entire fault._

“Thank you, Queen Daenerys.” She turned and exited without looking back.

 

Cyara directed to the godswood. She needed time to calm down. Aegon had given a fatal flaw to her plans when he ceded the control of the Realm to Daenerys. She wasn’t fond of Jon and didn’t like her at all which meant no support for the North would come from the Crown. They were no longer able to act under the protection of the King and his Hand.

 

“You’re hard to find.” Aegon Targaryen caught her by surprise.

 

“Your Grace.” She stood up. “Has the Queen decided Petyr Baelish’s fate?” His smile vanished.

 

“No. She said she wants to carry a proper trial after we conquer the capitol. The man will be accommodated in a chamber in the second Tower and will be watched day and night.”

 

_You could have put him in a cell._

 

“That is not enough. You don’t understand what this man is capable of. He could sabotage your plans.”

 

“Dany is the one who decides.” He sounded apologetic.

 

“The lords of the Vale trusted the dragons to make justice. I know they were an essential part of the Rebellion, but she’s not showing respect to them.”

 

“I’m very sorry, but I trust Dany’s judgement, she has experience in this sort of things.”

 

“The fact that she’s the Queen doesn’t mean everything she says is right, Your Grace.” He winced.

 

“You could call me Aegon, you know?”

 

“The Queen won’t like that.” The prince frowned confused.

 

“There’s nothing wrong about it. You call my brother by his name.”

 

_You are not the same._

 

“A bad habit of mine, I apologize.”

 

“If I allow you, Dany has no reason to complain.”

 

_Why is this so important?_

“It would be a great benefit to the Realm if you questioned all of the Queen’s decisions, Your Grace.” She sighed. “I apologize; I spoke more than I should have.”

 

“You don’t have to.” He had a pensive expression on his beautiful face.

 

_Good, he’s the one who can make a difference here._

“Please excuse me, Your Grace, I have to inform Arya Stark about the Queen’s decision.”

 

“Of course, send my greetings to Lady Arya.”

 

“Thank you, Prince Aegon.”

 

Arya’s reaction wasn’t what she had expected. I t was almost as if she already knew it was going to happen that way. She shrugged and told her nothing could be done about it. Arya Stark was the most unpredictable person she had ever met.

 

Daenerys Targaryen had her good share of unpredictability as well. The next morning she was summoned to her private quarters. Barristan Selmy asked her to hand her bow before entering.

 

“Your Grace.” The Queen turned to face her and fixed her violet eyes on her. Her expression was pure steel.

 

“I would be grateful if you refrained yourself from using my nephew to question my decisions.”

 

_That idiot…_

“That was never my intention, Queen Daenerys. I made a simple comment.”

 

“You made a comment that influenced his way of thinking and produced a discussion between us. Our people can’t see us fighting each other or they will think we aren’t stable governors. Do you understand?”

 

_Is it my fault that the fool is easy influenced?_

“I do. It won’t happen again, Queen Daenerys.”

 

“No, it won’t. I don’t care about what Lord Connington told you, your obligations will be restricted to guard Arya Stark. You won’t march to King’s Landing; you’ll stay here until you’re summoned to the capital. Am I clear?”

 

_What the hell did I do to her?_

 

“Yes, Your Grace.” Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name, had earned a bit of her hate.

 

 She hadn’t reached the stairs when Obara Sand took her by the arm.

 

“Wildling girl, come with me. My princess wants to talk to you.” She dragged her without waiting for an answer.

 

_What’s with the royalty today?!_

 

“Here she is, cousin.” The princess was having breakfast.

 

“It is Cyara, right?”

 

“Yes, princess.” Arianne Martell noticed the strain in her voice.

 

“I’m sorry for the unexpected and aggressive call but this matter is urgent.”

 

“I’m at your service, princess.” Princess Arianne smiled satisfied.

 

“Have a seat.” She obeyed. “Have you eaten already?” Cyara shook her head. “Then please, serve yourself.” Cyara was positively confused now. She gave up and followed the other woman’s lead, which seemed to please her even more. “I witnessed the discussion between my cousin and Daenerys.” The princess continued.

 

“It wasn’t my intention to cause trouble to the prince.”

 

“Forget the formalities.” She made a movement with her free hand. “I agree with you, Daenerys can make mistakes and right now, Aegon is the only one who can confront her. But let’s be honest, he’s as naïve as he is handsome; someone had to help him realize that. Things will improve from now on. I called you for other reasons. Are you aware of the plan to take the capital?”

 

“I am.”

 

“And what do you think about it?”

 

“I’m not an expert, but moving such a large army at the same time will warn the enemy about the attack with enough anticipation to allow important people to escape if they realize their battle is lost. If the _Royals_ flee, this war won’t end with that battle. They could also prepare a similar defense to the one Tyrion used at Black Water’s bay.”

 

“How smart, and Daenerys wants to leave her rotting in this castle.” The princess told her cousin. “I want to have eyes inside that city. I’ll send my cousins and a group of dornish women to perform this task… the problem is dornish aren’t familiarized with this weather.”

 

“You want me to guide them to King’s Landing.”

 

“I heard you have exceling scouting abilities. You should have been assigned as one of the main explores of the army.”

 

“The Queen…”

 

“Leave Daenerys to me.”

 

“I need time to think. The prince entrusted me the security of Arya Stark.”

 

“In my opinion, Arya Stark doesn’t need to be protected.” The princess’ eyes shone. “If things come to worst, I’ll do my best to distract the prince from his anger.”

 

She didn’t like the last part. Tyrion had sown a dangerous idea in her mind, one that would get worse with the time.

 

_I need to focus._

“I’ll take Arya with me.” She stated.

 

“Even better for the mission. I’ll prepare everything for you.” The princess took her hands and smiled yet again.

 

 _What am I doing?_ She wondered as she returned to the room she shared with Arya. It was easier to act when she was following orders. When she decided, doubts kept popping in her mind. After she explained to Arya the princess’ plan she glowered at her.

 

“Very nice, are you going to leave me here?”

 

_She’s still scared to be left alone._

“No, I’ll take you with me.” Arya was full of disbelief.

 

“Are you afraid I will seduce Aegon or attack Daenerys?”

 

_You’re incredibly mistrustful, Arya._

 

“No Arya, I will take you with me because I think it would be a waste not to make good use of your amazing abilities.” Arya gave her a look of complicity.

 

“You know, I’m kind of getting fond of you.” Cyara smiled.

 

_At least I’m not alone in this madness._

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys fans, please don't crucify me for this chapter, I'll explain her behavior on the next one.  
> Given the title of the chapter, I really wanted to include the mother of dragons but... I just didn't happen.


	14. Master of Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow I'll fall asleep during my class, but couldn't stop writting.
> 
> Enjoy.

 

 

DAENERYS

 

Dany was angry, very angry. She appreciated Aegon’s feedback regarding the ruling of the Realm; he would be, after all, the King of the Seven Kingdoms when they had finally reunited them. What she didn’t like was the fact that his opinion could be easily manipulated by Cyara. He had agreed completely with her decision but the moment he spoke with her, he changed his point of view.

 

She had decided to set the matter of the wildling and the prophecy aside but it didn’t work; she kept having nightmares in which her dragons fought and killed each other under the order of an ice woman or those where the Winter Maiden froze them with a single touch of her hand. The prophecies occupied her mind a considerable amount of time and now that the wildling had come back to the castle they were getting more and more real.

 

_I need to see Moqorro._

The priest as the loyal servant he was, arrived almost immediately.

 

“Silver Queen, Mother of Dragons, I’m always at your service.” He bowed.

 

“Priest, you said you couldn’t do anything about the Winter Maiden because she had gotten out of your reach. She’s back; I want to know what the flames tell about her.”

 

“Of course.” He directed to her chimney and threw some kind of powder into the flames; the fire got more intense than before. Then, he recited a prayer in Valyrian and focused his attention into the flames for a long time. Dany, stared at the flames curiously, trying to see what the priest saw, but she didn’t find anything in the fire.

 

The flames extinguished and the priest turned to face her. He had a serious expression.

 

“Did you see something?” Dany felt nervous.

 

“I did, my Queen.” He looked directly into her eyes. “It’s terrible.”

 

“Is she going to kill my dragons?” Something worst crossed her mind. “She’s going to kill my nephews…”

 

“I didn’t see her in the flames.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“I asked R’hllor which kind of fate the Winter Maiden was directing us to.” The priest made an unbearable pause. “I saw two dragons, not your dragons, my Queen. A fire dragon was fighting against an ice dragon and their battle was devastating for the Realm.”

 

“Did you see a victor?” Her voice was a whisper.

 

“There was a victor, yes, but it wasn’t a dragon. After the two dragons disappeared a wolf sat on the Iron Throne.” She felt the air escaping from her chest; it couldn’t be possible.

 

 _Aegon and Jon._ She felt an overwhelming certainty. Jon had said he didn’t want the Throne. _But Cyara could make him change his mind as she did with Aegon._ She had been too close to Jon for a long time, only the gods knew which kind of ideas she was introducing in his mind.

“This vision isn’t the same you saw the last time. Why?”

 

“The form in which the Lord of light sends the message isn’t always the same. There’s a constant though; the fight between good and evil, light and dark… ice and fire.”

 

“What do you suggest, priest?” She had to make a decision for the sake of the Realm, maybe for the sake of the whole world.

 

“R’hllor appreciates the sacrifice of those who stray from the road of light.”

 

“You want to burn her?” She felt nauseated.

 

“It would be a way to purify her sinful soul. She would be rescued from the darkness and returned to the Lord of light.” The priest spoke without a hint of hesitation, as if they weren’t discussing the life of another human being. “If you give me the order, my Queen, I could perform the ceremony this night.”

 

“It’s an important decision, priest. I need time to think.”

 

“Of course, but you should consider that the Great Other will take advantage of every second we grant him.”

 

“I understand.”  She conceded and he left.

 

It had been a great mistake to call the priest. She felt more uncertain and uneasy about what was happening. She walked to her window; the cold air and the landscape could help her to clear her mind. She heard the laughs and shouts in the yard as soon as she opened the shutter. Obara Sand was teaching Arya Stark how to wield her spear but it seemed too heavy for the twelve year old girl, so Elia Sand and the wildling were making fun of her.

 

 _Of course they get along._ Just like the northerners, the sand snakes weren’t fond of Dany. No matter how many times she swore she never wished the death of Quentyn Martell, they wouldn’t listen to her. The dornish loved and hated with the same passion and their passion made them unable to forgive. However, Dany couldn’t complain, it was their wish for revenge that had turned them into her allies. _We both want justice for our families._

 

As she observed the wildling from afar, she couldn’t find anything uncommon. Not that she was an ordinary woman, but she didn’t look like someone who would cast the world into the darkness. Jon, Aegon, Tyrion, Arianne, even Connington and a good amount of the soldiers liked her, but she couldn’t make up her mind.

She invited little Missandei to eat with her. The girl liked to share stories from Naath, her home town; Dany liked them because it was a distraction from the ungrateful present. She observed the girl; it had always amazed Dany how someone so young could manage so many languages and she was only twelve.

 

 _Like Arya Stark._ Dany was surrounded by incredibly capable young people.

 

“Missandei, do you think I’m doing the right thing?” Maybe she could enlighten her a little.

 

“You’re the Queen.” The girl stared at her with her golden eyes; she was confused by her question.

 

 _That doesn’t mean I’m always right._ She was well aware of that, but must of her subjects were afraid of her because of the dragons and wouldn’t dare to criticize her decisions. Connington was away, Arianne Martell barely spoke to her and Aegon… Aegon trusted her blindly when he didn’t talk to Cyara. The wildling was the only one who would point what she thought wrong, and still, Dany couldn’t see her in any other way aside from a menace to her dragons.

 

 _No, no, I have to think clearly. I’m allowing the Priest’s words to increase my fears._ She had more important things to think about; they were preparing for a battle which would define the rest of their lives.

 

“That’s right, Missandei, thank you.” Dany would have to ask someone else; Ser Barristan might be more sincere.

 

“What can I do for you, my Queen?” He said when she called him.

 

“Ser, you served in the Capital with Petyr Baelish. What can you tell about him?” The old knight thought for a moment.

 

“I hardly talked to him, my Queen. He was a capable man in what he did, everyone said it.  He liked to make fun of others but no one really knew a thing about his life.”

 

“Do you think what the Lords of the Vale said was true? Is he as dangerous as they say and we should sentence him right away?”

 

“I believe it could be true, my Queen.”

 

_‘I believe’, ‘it could.’ What a vague answer…_

“But you’re not completely sure.”

 

“No. The man is surrounded by possibilities but no real proof. The only thing we have against him is the testimony of Sansa Stark and they attack each other.”

 

“You also knew Sansa Stark. What is your opinion about her?”

 

“She was lovely young Lady, very courteous…” Her knight doubted.

 

“But…” She compelled him to continue.

 

“But I’ve not seen her in a long time, the time she spent with Baelish.”

 

Dany frowned; she wasn’t getting any answers and that made her angry. There was only one thing left to do.

 

“I want to see him, Ser.”

 

“Your Grace?”

 

“Come with me, Ser. I’m going to pay a visit to Petyr Baelish.”

 

They walked to the chamber where the man was being kept. The door was heavily guarded as if the man were a warrior skilled enough to escape from more than two guards. The soldiers were reluctant to allow her to enter.

 

_Aegon… He must have given the order._

“Ser Barristan, guard the door. I don’t want to be spied on.”

 

“As you command, my Queen.”

 

Petyr Baelish was sitting on a chair, drinking wine and smiled when she entered. His eyes told Dany he knew she was coming. He stood up to receive her.

 

“What a great honor to be visited by the Dragon Queen.” She sat across from him.

 

“Lord Baelish, have you been treated with respect?”

 

“Way better than I deserve, according to the prince’s mistress.” She couldn’t hide her surprise; she didn’t believe Aegon was keeping a mistress.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Was the Winter Maiden the reason your engagement was cancelled?” She understood.

 

“No, we reached an agreement and the thing between Aegon and the wildling is just a disgusting rumor invented by the servants. A rumor that I won’t discuss here, with you.” Unlike others, the man didn’t recoil at her reprimand.

 

“Was I wrong? I’m very sorry, but in my experience only a skilled mistress can hold such a great control over a man like him. I thought she was the reason the Silver Prince confronted you the other day.” She widened her eyes. “Secrets can’t be kept in such a big castle because rumor is the best entertainment for the servants.” His eyes glistened. “What is it that you need from me, my Queen?”

 

“I can’t wait until we conquer the capitol to decide your fate, Lord Baelish. I came to hear what you have to say in your defense.”

 

“I will answer all of your questions, my Queen.”

 

“If you dare to lie, you’ll have to face my dragons.”

 

“I would never dare to mislead the Mother of Dragons; you’ll see that my hands are completely clean.” He said with a faint smile.

 

“Fine, shall we start?” He nodded; it looked like he was enjoying the situation. “Did you kill Jon Arryn?”

 

“No, his wife killed him. Their marriage was arranged and she always hated the old man. You’ll hear this and I can confirm it, Lysa Tully was a bit mad.” He said nonchalantly.

 

“You married her.” He shrugged.

 

“The Crown ordered me to do so and was in no position to refuse. I heard they have lions in Casterly Rock; the animals are not as dreadful as a dragon but I’m not stupid.”

 

“What about the murders of Lysa Arryn and her son?”

 

“Robert Arryn was a fragile unhealthy boy; the Maester said it was a miracle he had lived so long. His cousin was in charge of him… I believe she exceeded the milk of the poppy doses.”

 

_Did Sansa Stark kill her own cousin?_

“And Lysa.” He continued. "I must admit I killed her. It was wrong, I won’t deny it but I wasn’t able to allow her to kill Sansa Stark. I thought Sansa was a good girl, not the treacherous woman she really is. I risked everything I had to take her out of the Red Keep, where they kept torturing her for something that was not her fault.”

“Why did Lysa Arryn want to kill her niece?” It was surprising how members from the same family could cause so much damage to each other.

 

“Oh Lysa! Poor Lysa! She was jealous of Sansa; she believed I loved the girl.” Dany directed him a questioning look. “Of course I never saw her that way; everything I ever did to help Sansa Stark was in honor of her mother. Yes, her mother; Catelyn Tully was my one and only love. Have you truly loved someone, my Queen? In a perfect world, perhaps one ruled by the dragons, we could have married and Sansa would have been my daughter.”

 

“Sounds like you helped Sansa Stark a lot. Why did she accuse you of all this crimes?”

 

“I wouldn’t know, perhaps she spent too much time among the lions; she was married to Tyrion Lannister, he might have told her that I conspired to kill her father and she wanted revenge for that. Maybe it was her way to expiate her guilt. If her father died, was because she betrayed him to Cersei Lannister.”

 

“Does Arya Stark know about that?”

 

“I found myself in the terrible position to reveal her the truth. It was the only way to warn her about her sister. Arya Stark is as daughter of Cat as Sansa.”

 

_It makes sense that Jon sent her back; she was worth at her older sister._

“Are you insinuating Sansa Stark is a cunning dangerous person?” She cocked her head. “How curious, I was told the same about you, Lord Baelish.”

 

“I must admit I have deceived some to get where I am but a man must do what it takes to survive in this treacherous world. However, the capacity of Sansa Stark is overwhelming, my Queen, if I were you I would be very wary of her. It breaks my heart to talk against a girl I considered as my own child but it is for the sake of the Realm.”

 

“Sansa Stark is miles away from me.”

 

“The reach of a mummer’s string can be very large. I dare to assume that she already has eyes in this castle.”

 

_‘Beware of the mummer’s dragon.’_

 

“Do you suggest that someone from my army has betrayed me?”

 

“It’s no treason, because she didn’t use one of _your_ soldiers.”

 

“Cyara…” The name escaped her lips. Baelish smiled.

 

“I heard the girl has shown an unwavering loyalty towards the Starks. If she has been talked into Sansa’s game, she might become a menace to the Targaryen.”

 

“We don’t get along but she has never acted directly against me.”

 

“That was before she met Sansa Stark. I heard they spent a good amount of time together after I was imprisoned.”

 

_If Sansa Stark is as dangerous as this man says, an alliance with the wildling would give her a good amount of possibilities to act against me._

 

“What do you think she would be plotting?”

 

“I can’t assure anything but perhaps she’s aiming to place a Stark on the Iron Throne.”

 

 _‘After the two dragons disappeared a wolf sat on the Iron Throne.’_ She heard Moqorro in her head. It was a big damn coincidence.

 

“They’ve got no means to do that. The Northern army is shattered.” She said with feigned confidence.

 

“You’re a kind person, Queen Daenerys, but think it carefully. Harrold Arryn is her betrothed and the Vale loved her father, the North and the Riverlands would rise once they know there are Starks still alive. If the Winter Maiden uses the influence she has over the Silver Prince… you would lose half of your army and one dragon.  Sansa could find her cousin a proper wife; let’s say a Dornish princess and you would lose the dornish and another dragon.” He must have seen the anxiety in her eyes because he gave her a reassuring smile. “There’s no certainty that this will happen, but this life it’s a big gambling game.” She composed herself.

 

“You have interesting theories, Lord Baelish, but the fact that I came to hear you doesn’t mean I believe you or trust you.”

 

“Then you’re the smartest person in the world, Dragon Queen.”

 

“I’ll consider your situation Lord Baelish. However, after what you have told me, you’ll have to wait until we are able to hold a proper trial where you’ll have the opportunity to confront Sansa Stark.”

 

“You will be a wise Queen. Please allow me to give you an advice: be careful with the Winter Maiden, she’ll make her move. Be it with the dornish or the prince, she’ll act sooner than later.”

 

“Thank you, Lord Baelish.” She stood and left.

 

“How was your talk, my Queen?” Ser Barristan asked when they were back in her chamber.

 

“I have to admit it was very interesting, Ser.”

 

“Did you learn something about Lord Baelish?”

 

“Yes, he’s a great bigmouthed flatterer.” Ser Barristan smiled.

 

“Did you solve your doubts?”

 

“No, I have to hear the opposite side first. I must speak with the wildling girl.”

 

“Shall I summon her, my Queen?”

 

“No, I have to analyze my talk with Lord Baelish. You’ll summon her first thing in the morning.”

 

“Of course, my Queen.”

 

She spent the rest of her day and a good amount of the night considering what Petyr Baelish told her. Dany tried to remember every expression he made when he talked in order to decide whether he was telling the truth or not. She also prepared to speak with the wildling girl; she metalized herself to hear her until the end without prejudices, the way she had done with Baelish. When she felt confident enough she went to sleep.

 

She woke up with the conviction that she would make an important decision for the Realm after she spoke with Cyara.

 

 _Yes, I have to call her by her name. She mustn’t feel like I have something against her from the very beginning._ Her anger had played important part in their previous confrontations. _She’s a strong woman and I might have been misjudging her. After we talk, we could find more similarities than differences._ The thought carried a faint sense of hope.

 

She gave the order to summon Cyara and waited in her solar. She waited during a long time, but no one came. When she was reaching her patience limit, Grey Worm burst in her chamber.

 

“Dragon Queen, the old knight ordered this one to inform you the wildling girl is nowhere to be found.”

 

“Have you asked Arya Stark?”

 

“The young Lady isn’t in her room. One has ordered the unsullied to search the entire castle.”

 

“That isn’t necessary. They could be riding in the forest.” It wouldn’t be the first time. “I’ll wait until they return.” Ser Barristan entered out of breath.

 

“Your Grace, they left.”

 

“What?”

 

“Their room is empty and their horses aren’t in the stables.” Dany was getting suspicious. “The wildling girl and Arya Stark, they left with the sand snakes an hour ago.”

 

“Do you know where they went?”

 

“Princess Arianne says she sent them to King’s Landing.”

 

_What are they going to do in King’s Landing?_

 

 _‘Be it the dornish or the prince, she’ll act sooner than later.’_ Baelish had told her. I t had been too fast.

 

“The princess has no such authority. I want them back.”

 

“I already sent our best riders after them, my Queen.”

 

“I want you to send them to me as soon as they are brought back.”

 

“It will be done.” When they left, she dropped herself on a chair.

 

 _She has been working with the dornish._ Dany felt her fears come true. Every passed second seemed to drag her closer to the prophecies she had been working hard ignore. They never were related to magic, they had always been about the Game of Thrones.

 

 

 

CERSEI

 

The little whore had her clutches over her sweet Tommen; she had become more and more possessive with the King. Cersei observed how Margaery Tyrell _played_ with her son; apparently they were building snow castles in the garden but from time to time, the little queen gave him an _innocent_ kiss. Cersei knew there was nothing innocent about her actions. Tommen was an eleven year old child and his wife was already preparing her way into his bed because an heir would be the only way to secure her position as Queen. The Queen Regent couldn’t act against her daughter-in-law, not yet, not after the things had finally calmed with the Faith, not with the war upon them.

 

Both Queens had escaped from the clutches of the High Septon. Margaery convinced the Faith with her feigned innocent expression and disgusting tears and the fucking fools released her. The Queen Regent had to put her life in the hands of the gods but she was never worried because her champion, Ser Robert Strong, didn’t fail, just as Qyburn had promised. The Faith declared her innocent in front of the whole city but that was only the beginning of her battle. Jaime, her other half, had disappeared, Pycelle and her uncle Kevan had been murdered leaving her surrounded with roses full of thorns. Cersei was sure it had been their doing, but she had no proofs against them. She didn’t need proofs to know they had planned everything along with the little monster.

 

 _You will pay; I’ll smash the valonqar and every single rose in my way, but not yet._ She needed their army to defend the reign of her son.

 

The Queen Regent had to swallow her pride and grant Mace Tyrell the title of Hand to secure his support to defend the peace of the King along with the remaining Lannister army. She kept the betrothal between Myrcella and Trystane Martell and allowed Nymeria Sand to become a part of the Small Council in order to maintain Dorne under control.  

 

Things were going well, even with the issue at the Storm Lands but it didn’t last. At the beginning no one really paid attention to the Targaryen pretender at Storm’s End, he had high possibilities of being false and a sell sword company didn’t represent an invincible menace. However, everything changed for the worse when the dornish recognized that the boy was the son of the insignificant dornish princess who married the man that was supposed to become hers.

 

Letters were sent to Dorne one after another and the only answer they received was silence and the disappearance of their dornish _guests_. As if that were not enough the Mad King’s spawn decided she had had enough of the filthy city of Meeren and crossed the Narrow Sea to form an alliance with her nephew. They had a bigger army and if the rumors were true, dragons. That was what worried her most, the dragons, even if the stupid Mace Tyrell kept singing and blabbering how his army would obliterate the dragons and the dornish. Qyburn had assured her the beasts weren’t that dangerous yet and there were ways to kill them but that was no reason to afford the loss of all the men that the Tyrell provided to protect the little Queen.

 

 _Little whore, I’ll strangle you personally once your roses have obliterated the dragons for me._ She thought as she observed the nasty manipulation Margaery Tyrell used on her son.

 

“Your Grace, I apologize for the interruption.” Qyburn appeared, silent as ever.

 

“What is it?” He was one of her best servants, he and Ser Robert.

 

“A letter arrived from the Vale.”

 

_The Vale is writing to the Crown, why now?_

 

They had been informed three moons ago that Robert Arryn had died and Harrold Hardyng would be appointed as Jon Arryn’s heir. As the awful kid and his mother were finally dead, she wrote to the Vale immediately to order Harrold Arryn to ride to the capital and swear his loyalty to King Tommen, first of his name. The Queen Regent considered the possibility to offer a match between Myrcella and the new young Lord; he would be a better prospect than the dornish prince.  Similarly to the dornish, the Vale didn’t answer to her offer, probably due to the affection they had for the honorable Ned Stark.

 

 _He has been dead for years and somehow he keeps bringing me misery, like his little sister._ The thought made her furious but she couldn’t deny the sudden answer from the Vale made her feel anxious. She opened the seal and started to read. Her heart raced and a little smile flapped in her lips. The more she read, the wider her smile grew.

 

“I take those are good news, Queen Cersei.” Qyburn was watching her expression.

 

“They are.” She reread the letter slowly; she wanted to memorize every word and the pleasure it produced her to read them. The letter said:

 

_To Her Grace, Queen Cersei Lannister, Regent and Protector of the Realm,_

_I have to apologize for the long time it took me to answer Your Grace’s letter; the Vale had to handle matters of great importance for its people and the entire Kingdom. I assure the loyalty of the Vale to King Tommen Baratheon, First of his name and swear that the people and swords of the Vale are his humble servants and will act to protect the peace of the King. As a proof of our loyalty we present you with the first victory of the Realm against its newest enemies._

_I received an unexpected visit from the three headed dragon two moons ago. They had the insolence to abduct me and use me as a hostage to coax an alliance from the Vale. My loyal vassals had no other option, so they accepted the offer but as faithful servants of the Realm, once they were off guard we fought them and defeated them. My men captured a good amount of hostages that might represent an advantage for the rightful King of Westeros in his coming battles against the presumed dragons. Among the main prisoners are Jon Connington, Jon Snow who claims to be son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen, therefore a Targaryen prince; and my personal favorites, Sansa Stark and Tyrion Lannister, accused of murdering King Joffrey Baratheon._

_I ask for permission to advance with the full army of the Vale towards the capital in order to provide support for the King’s army, since it was discovered that the dragons that remained at Storm’s End are already marching towards the capital._

_Harrold Arryn, Lord of the Vale and servant of the Realm_

The letter was the sweetest present she had received in a long time. If the Vale were to act in favor of Tommen, their possibilities to succeed increased significantly. They had also provided a method to deal with the dragons; if the false prince felt any affection for Connington or his bastard brother, they could exchange their lives for the deaths of the troublesome beasts.

 

 _So the loathsome she wolf had a son with Rhaegar and her honorable brother hid it from Robert._ It was so risible; she would have given all the gold of Casterly Rock to tell Robert about it. The fat drunk might have died out of anger or sadness. _Maybe he would have killed Eddard Stark himself and save me some work._ It would have been hilarious.

 

The best part, though, was the one that said they had captured Sansa Stark and the valonqar. They had managed to escape from her reach, but not anymore. She could already feel the sweetness of revenge, the pleasure she would experience when she saw them die.

 

 _I will make them suffer, I will make it last._ They had snatched her first son away from her and they had to pay.

 

“Shall we send a reply, Your Grace?”

 

“We must, Qyburn. I’ll write it immediately; we must not make our new friends wait. And call the small council; I have to inform them about this.”

 

_I have to inform the retarded Mace Tyrell that I have the upper hand again._

“Yes, Your Grace.”

 

Cersei dared to smile once more, after a long time things were finally going the way they should. She had started to feel like the lioness she had always been.

 

 

 

ARYA

 

“Ouch! That stings.” She complained as Cyara healed the scrape in her knee.

 

“It’s your fault. You insist in picking up fights with Elia.”

 

“We aren’t fighting; she’s teaching me how to use the spear. When I get as good as her, I’ll ask Obara to fight with me again.”

 

“We don’t have time for that or this. We should move faster.”

 

“Why? You said the soldiers wouldn’t catch up with us.”

 

 “I’m not concerned about the soldiers. There’s a giant wolf pack that has been following us.”

 

“They won’t hurt us.” Cyara gave her a pointed look.

 

“From where I come, wolves eat humans.”

 

“Not these.” She insisted stubbornly.

 

“Is there something I need to know?”

 

“Nymeria and Ghost are leading them.” Cyara arched a brow. “I had a wolf dream the other night in which I was following… us and Ghost was with me.”

 

“Fantastic.” Cyara looked more worried.

 

“What?”

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

 _Liar._ Arya had to forget about it, when Cyara didn’t want to speak there was no way to make her utter a word.

 

“Are we done?” Obara Sand appeared suddenly. “All these howling are driving me crazy.” Arya smiled.

 

 _Even the sand snake fears the wolf._ It was a stupid thought but it made her feel powerful.

 

“We’re done. We can leave immediately.” Cyara told the sand snake.

 

“How much time will it take us to reach the capital, wildling girl?”

 

“I guess six days, it depends on the weather.” She paused. “What are we going to do with the horses and how are we going to enter the city?” Obara smiled.

 

“You only have to worry about taking us there; we have the rest under control.” Arya could tell Cyara wasn’t so sure. “You’ve done a nice job.” Obara said as she clasped her and Cyara’s shoulder. “My cousin will be very grateful with you and you’ll receive a good reward, stop worrying.”

 

“I didn’t do this to get a reward.”

 

“That doesn’t mean you can’t accept it.”

 

“Fine, let’s go already.”

 

Cyara had done indeed a good job. The soldiers that were sent after them weren’t able to track them and she had guided them safely through the woods in order to avoid the main roads. Not even the journey with the Royal procession had been that easy, Arya was enjoying it.

 

 The rest of the trip went without setbacks. When they spotted the city, Obara told them to stop.

 

“Very well, give me your weapons, we have to hide them. Come on, quickly, put this on.” Obara ordered them as she threw at them two robes. The other two dornish women that traveled with them obeyed immediately.

 

“What is this?”

 

“We’re going to enter the city as acolytes of the Faith.”

 

“What?! I’m not going to stay in the sept.” The thought was enough to make her hear the crowd shouting again.

 

“I don’t know a single thing about the seven gods; I don’t think I’ll be able to pretend I want to become septa.” Cyara was frowning as well. Elia laughed at both of them.

 

“We aren’t devoted either. We’ll only disguise to enter the city, no one suspects the servants of the gods.”

 

“Where are we going to stay then?” Cyara asked.

 

“There’s a brothel which appreciates dornish clients, a lot. I think that was my father’s doing.”

 

“Great whores are way funnier than septas.” Arya said and everyone laughed.

 

The sand snakes were right; the guards didn’t question them when they entered. Apparently, after the High Sparrow restored the Faith Militant, a huge amount of people kept arriving to the city to offer their services to the Faith. They made their way through the streets Arya had wandered looking for food a hundred years ago. Strangely enough she wasn’t sad or angry; her soul was very calm.

 

“Are you going to be fine?” Cyara whispered to her.

 

“I’ll be fine.” She assured.

 

 _I’m getting closer to the end of my list._ That provided her a new kind of strength.

 

 They got to the brothel and the black woman that owned the place took them to a spacious room where two beautiful women were waiting for them. The sand snakes embraced them and exchanged some smiles.

 

“You arrived pretty fast.” The blonde one said.

 

“It’s everything thanks to our new friends. Arya Stark and Cyara, she serves Aegon´s little brother.” Elia pointed at them. “These are my sisters, Nymeria and Tyene Sand.”

 

“How have you been keeping in contact?” Cyara voiced her thoughts.

 

“A servant of god has certain privileges.” Tyene, the blonde one said, she was dressed as a septa. “Which reminds me I have to return to the Sept or the Sparrow will suspect, Nym will tell you everything.” She left.

 

“What is it that you have to tell us?” Elia inquired.

 

“Bad news…” Nymeria gave her a side look before continuing. “Our informants inside the castle tell us the Vale has allied with Cersei Lannister.”

 

“What do you mean?”  Cyara had turned very silent.

 

“A letter arrived. Harrold Arryn captured Connington, Sansa Stark, the Lannister dwarf and Aegon’s brother. His army is marching to hand them over to the Crown and defend the city from Aegon’s army.” Arya felt the ground crushing beneath her.

 

 _No, not again. Jon can’t die the way father did._ Her guts were burning with rage. She wanted to scream to rip off her own skin. _I knew we shouldn’t have left._

 

“I think you should leave us alone.” She heard Cyara’s voice far away.

 

“I was a fool.” Arya was punching the wall with her fists. “I was being wary of Sansa and thought the heir was an idiot. I should have killed him. We have to return, I will kill him before they get here.”

 

“He has an army.”

 

“As if I cared about his army. I won’t let them have Jon.” She smashed a wine jar on the floor.

 

“I know what you’re thinking but it was actually good that we weren’t with them; we have better chances to get them out of the castle than rescuing them from the campsite. You said you knew a secret entrance to the castle.”

 

She turned to face Cyara, she wanted to shout at her; she didn’t understand how she was feeling but when she saw her, Arya realized the only thing calm in her at that moment was her voice. Cyara had clenched her fists so hard that her palms were bleeding and her eyes reflected the same hate that filled Arya’s soul.

 

_This time will be different; I’m not the stupid helpless girl I was, this time, I’ll make the lion fall._

JON

 

He heard the steps as they grew closer to him. He breathed the cold air to calm down.

 

 _What do they want now? Won’t they allow me to rest even a little?_ Jon closed his eyes and prepared for what was coming.

 

“I’ve been looking for you, boy?” Connington said after entering the small hall of the castle where Jon was hiding.

 

“I’m done with war councils for today.” He said with strain.

 

 _I’m done with all of this for the rest of my life._ His life had become an endless succession of war councils, feasts and talks with lords and vain Ladys. He repented from his decision to send Arya and Cyara away; they could have made it easier for him. He kept wondering how Aegon was able to keep up with it at Storm’s End. _I wasn’t born to be a prince._

“I came to discuss something else with you.”

 

“What is it?” He didn’t want to make Connington angry; despite everything he was doing his best for Aegon … and him.

 

“Prince Doran sent me a letter… he suggested he would gladly accept an engagement between the princess and you.”

 

 _Cyara was right._ The only thing Jon hadn’t expected was that Doran Martell would offer his daughter, his heir.

“You think is a good option.”

 

“I know is an excellent option.” Connington almost looked happy.

 

“Wouldn’t Aegon be a better option?”

 

“Prince Doran doesn’t like the idea of them marrying, they’re cousins.”

 

“I thought the dornish didn’t like me.”

 

“The one they don’t like is Rhaegar.” He frowned. “They don’t even blame the St… your mother.” He corrected.

 

“I’m a bastard, definitely not suitable for a dornish princess.” He spoke louder than he intended.

 

“You’re not a bastard.” Connington got angry at him. “Your father married Lyanna Stark.”

 

“How can you be sure? You weren’t there and he already had a wife.” He had come to despise the idea of being the son of Rhaegar Targaryen; Jon’s birth had caused a great amount pain to thousands of people, his own brother and sister included, Rhaenys would have been his sister.

 

“Aegon the Conqueror had two wives, so what? And you’re right, I wasn’t there, but your father was my friend and I know he would have never procreated a bastard.”

 

 _My father was Ned Stark and he was your enemy._ Jon couldn’t tell him that. Fortunately their talk was interrupted. Sansa and Tyrion entered the room together. They had been very close lately.

 

“So good we found you.” Tyrion was cracking up with laughter.

 

“What do you want?” Connington hated to be interrupted, especially when he was reprimanding someone.

 

“The answer arrived.” Sansa said.

 

“My sweet sister fell completely for it. I must say you have gained my admiration, wife. She even offers Myrcella’s hand to Harry. ” He laughed again.

 

 _That fucking letter…_ He hadn’t approved the idea but no one listened to him.

 

“The city will be opened for the knights of the Vale.” Sansa added.

 

“Good.” It was horrible how much it pleased Connington. He considered it _poetic justice_ ; it would be like the time Tywin Lannister sacked the city but this time the ones at the losing end were the Lannisters.

 

“That letter is full of lies.”

 

“Consider it a war tactic, cousin.” Tyrion had written most of it but it had been idea of Sansa.

“It’s dishonorable.”

 

“This world wasn’t built for honorable people. That’s why father, mother, Robb, Bran and Rickon are dead. You would be wise to remember that, cousin.”  Sansa left without another word. He couldn’t believe it. Arya warned him and he didn’t listen; Sansa was no longer the girl she had been.

 

_Arya isn’t the same either… I am not the same._

“I want to be alone.” He ordered.

 

“Think about the other issue.” Connington said before he left.

 

 _What would father say about what we have become?_ He thought bitterly. _Ned Stark’s remaining children are an assassin, an oath breaker and a liar._ He felt nauseated.   _And I am not even a Stark._

_‘You know nothing, Jon Snow.’_

“No, I don’t.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would really apreciate if you left comments.
> 
> I have a lot of fun reading them and they help me to find mistakes, inaccurancies in the story and give me ideas.


	15. Justifiable Sins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I apologize for the delay.
> 
> I had an awful time writing this one since I'm definitely not a war strategist. I hope the military related parts, which would make most of the chapter, don't seem forced or unrealistic.
> 
> Maybe I tried to cover a lot of things with Jon, but I wanted to leave everything prepared for what's coming next.
> 
> Ser david, I hope you enjoy it.

 

 

 

AEGON

 

Aegon adjusted his hood for the thousandth time that day; the snow was falling heavily and he was about to freeze. The column of the giant army moved slowly trying to maintain the formation and the speed rate to cover the predetermined distance of the day; he was trapped in the middle of a sea of horses, men, and steel.

 

“We should stop for the day. The men look tired.” He commented to Dany who was riding by his side. As the Queen and Mother of Dragons, she feigned the cold wasn’t bothering her but Aegon could see it wasn’t like that.

 

“We can’t stop. If we want to get to King’s Landing on time, we can’t stop.” Her cheeks had turned red because of the cold.

 

“King’s Landing isn’t going away.”

 

“We have to arrive at the same time as the Vale’s army.”

 

“They have to cover a greater distance than us. I think we could take it easy.” Dany looked like she was considering the option.

 

“According to our last reports, they are advancing faster than we do. They were already at Maiden Pool and, we have barely passed Bronzegate, at this rate they are going to get there before we do, Your Grace.” Ser Barristan offered.

 

“That makes sense Aegon, we can’t afford any delay.”

 

 _You have no idea of where those places are, Dany._ In fact, he didn’t have the minimum idea of where those places were either or the current distance between both parties and King’s Landing. Aegon didn’t like that; he was planning to become King of a place he didn’t know. And to make things worse, his army was suffering because of the hard journey.

 

When they departed from the castle of Storm’s End, everyone was excited, already imagining the glory that awaited them when the capital fell. A fortnight exposed to the winter was all it took to strip the men from their wishes of glory. Now that he thought carefully about it, it was foolish to believe the journey would be easier. Jon had told him about the dangers winter carried and Aegon underestimated his advice.

 

 _I’m still the cocky boy who attacked the Storm’s End castle._ He tried to dismiss the idea immediately.

 

“How come they are advancing faster than we do, Ser?” The weather in the Vale might be worse than in the Storm Lands.

 

"Those men are way better dealing with the cold and they aren't being constantly attacked by the forces of Highgarden, Your Grace." Aegon nodded.

 

That was another issue; not long after they left the castle a group of soldiers from the Reach started to follow them and was constantly bugging the rear of the column. They had already killed at least a dozen of soldiers, but the explorers weren't able to hunt the attackers. His army was slowly, but gradually becoming weaker.

 

 _Cyara might have been able to catch them. I should have listened to Arianne and assigned Cyara as one of our explorers._ He thought angrily. It was useless to think about that; Cyara had more likely arrived at King’s Landing ages ago. _Dany won't like it if I were to bring up the topic. For better or worse, we're where we are._

They finally stopped after sunset. Aegon ignored supper and went directly to sleep; he was completely bushed. He removed the coat of mail and washed his face before going to bed, but he remembered something important and called Duck.

 

"Do you know if I have received any letter?"

 

"Aside from the military reports, nothing else has been received from the Vale's army."

 

"I see..."  Duck knew what he was asking for.

 

"They're as busy as we are, Aegon."

 

"You're right, Duck. Thank you." He went to sleep more disheartened than before. His brother was still mad at him.

 

Right after Cyara, Arya Stark and the Sand Snakes left the castle, he wrote a letter to Jon in order to let him know what had happened. Aegon told his brother that he was sorry and assured he hadn't known a thing about Arianne's plans. Jon answered him immediately to reassure Aegon; according to him, it wasn't something rare because Arya Stark wasn't able to stay still; he had expected something like that to happen. Jon wasn't worry about her safety though, after all, she was with Cyara and the Sand Snakes. Aegon was grateful for the answer because he was aware of how important Arya Stark was for his brother and still, Jon didn't accuse him of anything.

 

Two days later Aegon received a letter from Jon in which he asked his support; strangely enough, his letter had a hint of desperation, but Aegon felt happy for Jon asking his help. Apparently the Vale had come out with a plan to deceive Cersei Lannister to open the gates of the city to their army, but Jon was against it. Jon asked him to convince Connington to stop that course of action. Aegon could remember the last words written in the letter, even without reading it.

 

_‘This is exactly which Tywin Lannister did eighteen years ago; it’s despicable and unbecoming of the future King of Westeros. No matter how much advantageous it is for us, we can’t afford to act like that.’_

He couldn't believe Jon's words; Aegon felt infuriated. He thought of how Tywin Lannister sacked the city and how he gave the order to kill his mother, Rhaenys and him, and the way he did it. If they could make the Lannisters slightly feel the horror and the anxiety his mother felt, he didn't give a damn about honor. Besides, a plan like that would save thousands of lives from their side; he let his feelings speak for him.

_‘Maybe you don't give a damn about my mother and sister, but have you forgotten the Red Wedding? That was the Lannisters' doing as well.’_ Aegon wrote at the beginning of his apoplectic letter and, he received no further reply from Jon. After that, he apologized for insinuating that Jon didn't understand how he felt and wrote about his advances personally, but every reply he got from then on, came from Connington. Jon's silence, combined with the wretched advances of his host was consuming him little by little.  

_Are all kings supposed to feel this hopeless?_ All of a sudden, he wasn't eager to become King anymore.

 

The sound of the horn extracted him abruptly from his sleep; it was nearly dawn. Aegon dressed as fast as he could and was wearing half of his armor when his squire entered. The thirteen-year-old boy, whose name he never remembered, was a Penrose of Parchments, one of the first Houses to swear loyalty to him. The boy helped him to finish with the armor and gave him _Blackfire_. Aegon breathed, there wasn't time to think, and stepped outside.

 

"What happened?"

 

"Don't worry, they won't get here. The rearguard is under attack, but Ser Barristan is leading men to deflect the enemies." Duck looked worried.

 

"Was it the Tyrell host?"

 

"So it seems, some saw the lion banner as well."

 

"They are becoming bolder."

 

"We gave them the opportunity. Yesterday the last part of the rear stopped two thousand yards away from the rest of the column."

 

"No one told me about that." Duck shrugged.

 

"The men of the Golden Company and the Storm Lands keep forcing the advance and, the Dornish do the impossible to keep up with it. The problem is the Unsullied; they aren't riders and walking with all this snow can't be easy for them, all of them come from warmer places. I heard some of them got sick."

 

"Has someone seen to that, already?"

 

"They are being attended; the Queen gave the order a few days ago."

 

He waited inside his tent until the men returned. After that, he went to Dany's tent to hear the report of the battle.

 

"We managed to repel them, Your Graces, but things are worse than we thought." Ser Barristan was out of breath.

 

"What do you mean Ser Barristan?" Aegon was preparing for the worst.

 

"The men who attacked the rear were barely one hundred, but I gave the order to follow them. We were about to catch them when we saw it; we have a ten thousand men army composed of soldiers from the Reach and the Western lands behind us."

 

"I thought they all of them were at King's Landing. Why haven't they attacked us in an open battle?"

 

"They must be saving their strength until we make it to the capital in order to attack us both from the rear and the vanguard. Mace Tyrell still has a monstrously big army."

 

"They won't be able to do that, not with the Vale supporting us." Dany said a bit insecure.

 

"That can only mean the Vale managed to deceive Cersei Lannister." Aegon thought of Jon again and winced.

 

"Still is dangerous to let them stay right behind us, we should move faster and leave them well behind us."

 

"The men are already doing what they can and I'm sure some were wounded during the last battle, not to mention the some were already sick. What if we were to face them? We outdo their numbers."

 

“I don't think that is wise, Your Grace. We outdo them in numbers, but they count with more knights in their host. That's the reason the dornish and half of the Golden Company will attack the city as the knights confront the main army in the open field, supported by the perfect formation of the Unsullied. It's safer to face them once we have joined the other half of the army."

 

“With this speed, they are going to attack us a dozen of times before we reach them and, there's no way we can move faster than we are already.”

 

“We could, Your Grace." Ser Barristan said doubtfully.

 

"What do you propose, Ser?" Dany invited Ser Barristan to continue and, Aegon turned away unable to hear something he already suspected.

 

"We would have to let the injured and the sick behind us, and everyone unable to keep the rest of the army's pace. That could motivate the rest to move faster."

 

"We don't seem to have any other option." Dany declared.

 

"Really? Most of the abandoned would be your Unsullied."

 

"We can't afford to be attacked continuously. Plus, if we were to stop to heal the wounded and to take care of the sick, we could find ourselves surrounded by the enemy; the explorers have proved to be close to ineffective. Our best chance is to leave them behind."

 

"What is supposed to happen to those left behind, Dany?" She didn't answer, so he continued. "I'll tell you what; they're going to freeze to death or will be found by the enemy and get destroyed. Is that what we're going to do to those of whom have followed us this far?"

 

Dany closed her eyes for a moment and, when she opened them again there was no more doubt in them, only fire.

 

"Success comes after great sacrifices, Aegon. If we stay here, more of our men will be affected." She held his stare. "If we look back, we are lost." She added and, it sounded more like a prayer than anything else.

 

"We can't do that." He tried to fight back.

 

"I'm the Queen and I'll give the order."

 

"Dany, that's horrible." She took his hand.

 

"I know. I'm not saying it's correct, but it's the best decision I can make for the sake of the majority." Aegon looked away from her and, she took his chin to force him to face her. "Ruling is like this, full of tough decisions and awful sacrifices. They will despise me, I'm aware of that much. However, being loved it's not the synonym for being a good ruler." She sighed wearily. "You'll have to remember that when you become King."

 

Aegon felt both ashamed and overwhelmed by her wisdom. He understood what she was saying, but he couldn't stop feeling sinful. He considered the option of using the dragons, but that didn’t seem viable either. Then, he wondered what Jon would have done, what Connington would have done. Everyone seemed to understand war way better than he did. He would have to accept it and learn from it; his life would be like that from then on.

 

"I will speak to them as well, this is my war as much as it is yours; you don't deserve to be the only one hated." Dany answered him with a weak smile.

 

 _There is no way for us to save everyone._ More and more would die during the battle. _Everything for the sake of recovering the Iron Throne._ Aegon would have to pray the gods to be able to understand them and forgive them.

 

 

 

JON

 

He could feel the intense stare of everyone in the tent upon him. He had divided the opinions of the men with the decision he had made; one the gods knew he had passed a difficult time selecting. The harsh response he got when he requested Aegon's help had induced him to doubt the validity of his way of thinking.

 

 _Am I really such wrong?_ The Lannisters had damaged their families in a horrible way, but that was a poor excuse for such disgraceful actions. On the other hand, most of the times, integrity found its value on the perspective; Jon was the living proof of it. Eddard Stark had lied to his wife and, his king in order to preserve the promise he made to his sister. That was also a source of honor.

 

In the end, he had done what he did and went directly to confess his transgression to Connington and the rest. Most had called him an idiot boy who didn't understand how the world operated; the least, had commented he was as upright as Lord Eddard. Connington couldn't have been more furious.

 

"I believed Aegon was the heedless one. Why do you both continue doing this sort of stupidities?" Connington roared as the rest of the commanders remained silent.

 

Jon had reached his limit. He had been the commander of the Night's Watch, fought thousands of wildlings to defend the Wall and destroyed a wight; he wouldn't allow Connington to treat him like a senseless brat.

 

"I'm not Aegon." He said directly to Connington's startled face before turning to Harrold Arryn and Tyrion. "I won't tolerate you or the rest of the Lords to question me." He said with a booming voice that didn't sound like his own. "Leave us alone, I want to speak to Lord Connington in private." He ordered and for once not even Tyrion made a single remark.

 

"Explain yourself, boy." Jon answered the scowl with one of his own.

 

"I'm not the idiot young boy you think I am." Connington sighed.

 

"I know you hold a great respect for Eddard Stark and if I'm honest he gained some of mine after I found out he protected you. However, that honorable way of acting complicates things a lot." He looked away from Jon. "Had I known that before, the Battle of the Bells would have changed the course of the Rebellion." He added after a prolonged silence.

 

The man had remained loyal to Rhaegar after so many years, the things he did for him and Aegon showed it and, that was admirable. However, Jon would never completely agree with him because the Last Dragon meant nothing to Jon. He had to find another way to make Connington understand.

 

"I didn't do it for my honor, but for Aegon's sake."

 

"I don't see how that helps Aegon."

 

"Do you want his subjects talking behind his back about his treacherous victory? He must take that Throne the cleaner way possible so that no one can object."

 

 "He didn't give the order."

 

"No, he would limit to look away. The same way Robert Baratheon did after Tywin Lannister presented him with the corpses of Elia Martell and Rhaenys."

 

"This isn't child murdering." His voice was throaty.

 

_Then, what are you planning to do with Tommen and Myrcella Baratheon?_

 

"People won't forget and one day someone might use it as an excuse to rebel against him, the way they used the madness against Aerys." Connington considered Jon's words silently.

 

"I hope, for everyone's sake, that you're right and, you better be prepared because the Lords aren't going to go easy on you if the battle complicates."

 

"It wouldn't be the first time someone disagrees with my choices." He reached instinctively for the scar in his neck.

 

"I'll help you to deal with them." Connington didn't demonstrate signals of stopping treating him like a child.

 

_At least I convinced him about the letter issue._

 

"Thanks." He muttered before preparing for the now customary question.

 

"Have you made up your mind concerning the princess?"

 

"I've been considering it." He admitted.

 

 _I should have rejected it already._ He was a member of the Watch; he had pronounced the vows in front of the old gods. _I was a member of the Watch._ He recalled; there was no way for him to return there, yet he wasn't able to adopt his new condition. _What am I supposed to do?_ He felt so, corrupted.

 

_'How about doing what you have always wanted to do instead of what others expect?'_

 

 _Is the princess what I want?_ Arianne Martell was stunningly attractive, but he didn't know the first thing about her. _I vowed love was over for me after Ygritte died._

 

 _'You know nothing, Jon Snow.'_ Her words continued tormenting him.

 

"What have you decided?" Connington insisted.

 

"You said Prince Doran suggested it... I don't want to do anything without her consent. Tell him I want to speak with her and know what she opines regarding the betrothal." That would give him more time to think.

 

"The prince will like that." Connington approved.

 

 _Has he always been this emotionally unstable?_ Just a moment ago he had been shouting at him.

 

"I'll tell Aegon about what I did, personally. I also want to ask about Arya."

 

"You could write directly to the princess."

 

Surprisingly enough, the princess and the Sand Snakes had conceived a method to keep in contact. She had informed that the small group made it safely to the capital. Jon kept praying Arya wouldn't cause any trouble for Cyara and the Sand Snakes; her short temper was something that could produce difficulties.

 

"You aren't a subtle matchmaker." That made Connington scowl.

 

 _Poor Aegon._ He had been dealing with those things longer than him.

 

The horn sounded suddenly. Connington and he shared the same expression full of disbelief. They couldn't be under attack, they had been very careful. They exited the tent together and, Connington stopped a running squire.

 

"What's happening?"

 

 "A three hundred men army is riding directly to the campsite." The boy blabbered.

 

"What happened to the explorers?"

 

"Only one made it back."

 

"Don't they see the size of our host?"

 

"It could be a distraction. There might be a larger host coming from another direction."

 

"You're right. Lad, you heard the prince; tell Lord Arryn to send explorers in the other directions." The boy ran as fast as he could.

 

Jon hurried to get ready. He was about to ride when a messenger appeared in front of them.

 

"They are carrying the dire wolf of Winterfell." Connington frowned.

 

"It's obviously a trap."

 

"Was the dire wolf the only banner?" A bunch of crazy ideas crossed his mind.

 

"No, Your Grace. There were a gauntlet and a bear. I don't know the third one; it looked like a crocodile, Your Grace."

 

_Howland Reed._

 

"They aren't our enemies. I'll meet them personally. I need someone to carry the Stark and the Targaryen banner."

 

"Stop right there."

 

"I know they aren't against us. If you're that worried, come with me."

 

Connington looked at him as if he was crazy, but accompanied him  with an escort that outnumbered the other party. He dismounted when they were a hundred steps away and walked forward. Connington did the same with extreme precaution. Two riders from the other host met him in the middle of both armies. Before Jon could pronounce a word, both kneeled in front of him.

 

"We finally found you, Your Grace." One said.

 

The men had been calling him prince from the moment he arrived at Storm's End; receiving the same treatment from the northerners was odd.

 

_Lord Reed must have told them the truth._

 

"We came to swear loyalty to the king." A woman's voice continued.

 

"Please stand up." He doubted before proceeding. "Aegon isn't here, but he will be grateful to hear the North has raised for his cause."

 

The two northerners stood and retrieved the hoods; Jon recognized Maege Mormont and Galbart Glover.

 

"We didn't come to kneel for the Dragon; we came for King Robb's heir."

 

 _Do they know about Sansa and Arya?_ The letter from King's Landing mentioned Sansa, but they hadn't disclosed Arya yet.

 

Jon could feel the rage emanating from Connington.

 

"They don't know about Arya swearing fealty to Aegon. I'll talk with them." He whispered as he held the other man's arm. "This is a delicate topic, my Lords. Shall we continue our conversation in a more comfortable place?"

 

"Sounds accurate, Your Grace." Galbart Glover said.

 

As they returned to the campsite, he observed the northern host. Some might be survivors from Robb's army, but most of them were crannogmen. Mormont and Glover sat across from him and Connington.

 

"I'm thankful for the loyalty you have shown to the Starks but Sansa and Arya have already pronounced in favor of Aegon. The North will be part of the Seven Kingdoms after the Targaryen recover the Throne."

 

"It's good to hear that the daughters of Ned Stark are alive, but we didn't come for them either. As I said before, we came for King's Robb heir." Glover insisted.

 

"I'm afraid I don't understand, my Lord."

 

"This might make things clearer."

 

Maege Mormont extracted a parchment from her clothes and extended it to him. It had Robb's seal in it. Jon opened it with trembling hands. He read a first time, but he didn't understand a single thing. He had to reread it two more times to decipher the contents of the piece of paper. Robb had legitimized him and, what was even worse, Robb had appointed Jon as his heir. His throat was dry.

 

"This is mistaken." He heard the paper rustle when he clenched his fists around it. Connington snatched it from his hands.

 

"It is not. We were there when the King announced it. The Lords from the North and the Riverlands accepted it. Mormont, Umber, Glover, Manderly, Tallhart, Flint, Mallister, Blackwook, Piper, even Tully; their seals are the proof of it."

 

"I'm not Ned Stark's son, didn't Howland Reed told you?" He said urgently.

 

"He did, but it doesn't matter. You have Stark blood and were raised by Ned Stark, that's more than enough."

 

"No, Robb's sisters are alive." Fear crawled into his body. "He has heirs; it doesn't have to be me."

 

"Rickon Stark is alive as well." Maege Mormont shrugged.

 

 _Rickon, alive?_ He almost smiled. _I've been away from the North for a long time._

 

"Nevertheless, the North needs a man directing it, not a little kid. We won't follow a southern because he married a daughter from Winterfell. We are following the King's decree."

 

"I'm a deserter from the Watch." His insecurities kept appearing one after another.

 

"We heard about the betrayal. The Watch doesn't belong to the Realm but the Lannisters. The oath you made is invalid after what they did. It's you or no one, Jon Stark." He was too shocked to do anything; his body wasn't responding to his commands.

 

"These are unexpected news, my Lords. I think the prince needs time to assimilate them." Connington said with a bit of strain. Maege and Galbart left after giving a small bow.

 

"You look as if you have seen a ghost. Isn't this good?"

 

"I don't know if you were paying attention, but they don't recognize Aegon as the King." His fear had turned into anger.

 

"They worship you. If you accept the rule of the North, then you can acknowledge Aegon's reign. Seems like the only thing they ask for is a suitable Stark heir."

 

 _How practical._ Connington didn't understand him the very least.

 

"This isn't right."

 

"Says the prince who sabotaged our plans."

 

"I already explained my reasons."

 

"Fine, you acted honorably for your brother's sake. Can't you sacrifice some of your rectitude for him?"

 

 _Jerk._ He was using his argument against him.

 

"I need some rest."

 

_I need to be alone._

 

He undressed and lied down on the bed. Sleep came unusually fast, but it carried nightmares with it.

 

He dreamt of the disapproving stare of Catelyn Stark following him through Winterfell and no matter how fast or far he ran, he couldn't escape. He continued running until he arrived at the small forest of weirwoods, the place where he had pronounced his vows to the Night's Watch.

 

 _"... I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come."_ He said before rising.

 

 _"Liar, Liar. Oathbreaker. Traitor."_ The red leaves sang with disdain. The faces carved in the weirwoods weren't those the children of the forest carved thousands of years ago; they were faces he knew as well as his own. Lady Catelyn, Ned Stark, Benjen Stark, Jeor Mormont, Qhorin halfhand, Maester Aemon, Bowen Marsh, Ser Alliser, Donal Noye; all of them had harsh expressions judging him.

 

_"No, I'm loyal to the Night's Watch. I didn't ask for this."_

 

 _"You always wanted my son's birthright, bastard."_ The weirwood with Lady Catelyn's face twisted its expression to pronounce the words.

 

 _"We believed in you, we entrusted the future of the Watch to you, oathbreaker."_ His brothers said in unison.

 

_"I protected your life but you allowed them to kill my sons, to obliterate my House. I exchanged my honor to save your cursed existence, but you couldn't do the same for Robb."_

 

_"There was nothing I could do. I had made an oath. Forgive me, father."_

 

_"You're not a son of mine."_

 

 _"Liar, Liar. Oathbreaker. Traitor."_ The leaves rustled again and, the darkness engulfed him.

 

He was back at Winterfell, standing in the center of the main yard as everyone rushed and shouted preparing for the Royal procession to leave.

 

Robb was there as well, the way he was the last time they saw each other. The snow was melting in his auburn hair, and when he noticed Jon, he smiled. His heart filled with an overwhelming sorrow.

 

 _"Farewell, Snow."_ His brother shouted.

 

Suddenly Robb was surrounded by men of the Watch, those who had betrayed Jon. They stabbed his brother as they repeated it was for the sake of the Watch. Jon ran towards him as fast as he could. The body had gone ahead surrounded by a pool of blood that stained the pure snow. Jon turned the body to find out it wasn't Robb, but Aegon. His silvery hair was soaked with blood and life had entirely abandoned his violet eyes.

 

 _"What is duty against the memory of a brother's smile?"_ Maester Aemon's words sang.

 

_"I would have changed nothing."_

 

_"You could have changed everything, you will never know. But you made your choice and, you will have to live with it for the rest of your life, as I did."_

 

_"I…"_

 

_"It was not your fault. You can't change the past, but you can change the future. It's you or no one, Jon."_

 

 _"Bran."_ He awoke feeling a terrible headache and, his eyes were swollen. He stayed in bed well-passed dawn meditating about the choice he would make.

 

He called Maege Mormont, Galbart Glover, and Connington.

 

"If it is what the North wants, I will take its rule but as Lord, not King."

 

"The Targaryens..." Glover started.

 

"I know what they've done, but I swear my brother is a good man and will be a just King. I trust him. Plus, I'm half Targaryen, am I not?"

 

He prayed the last part didn't sound false or strained.

 

"What guarantee do we have that they won't attack us later?"

 

"Then, I would have to face Aegon, but that won't happen."

 

"I guess that is better than nothing." Maege Mormont snorted.

 

"In that case, can I have your support to attack King's Landing?"

 

_With northerners in the army, we can take advantage of this snow._

 

"Nothing would make us happier than kicking some lion's asses." Even Connington appeared pleased.

 

"I'll be grateful to see that." He thought of the Watch and Lady Catelyn.

 

 _Lady Catelyn isn't here anymore. My brothers can say whatever they want about my lack of honor. Arya, Aegon, Rickon, Sansa; they worth a lifetime full of sins._ Choosing hurt; Aemon Targaryen had warned him about it, but he couldn't deny that was something his soul had been yearning for since he was a child.

 

 

 

CERSEI

 

The Queen tried to contain her fury; she was, after all in front of the Small Council.

 

"What is it, Your Grace?" The imbecile Mace Tyrell asked.

 

"The Vale is a rebel in the end." She answered as relaxed as she could.

 

"May I see that letter, Queen Regent?" Paxter Redwyne, the Great Almirante from the Small Council, requested.

 

The Queen almost tossed the parchment to the man. Redwyne read in silence and, when he finished he looked at the Queen with a stunned face.

 

"Can we consider these words as truth?"

 

"If Jon Snow wrote it, then it's true."

 

"Why in the Seven Hells our enemy would warn us about the treason?" Everyone looked at the Queen as if she was completely out of her mind.

 

 _Each one of them is as stupid as the previous one._ The Queen pretended a smile before answering.

 

"It's a stupid move, indeed but the lad was raised by Ned Stark and, honor means everything to the Starks."

 

 _Honor killed Ned Stark and almost killed his bastard._ Cersei still couldn't understand how he had managed to escape from the Watch's betrayal; she had arranged everything to end the last of Ned Stark´s spawns. _But he's not his bastard; he's the son of Rhaegar and the squalid little sister._ Somehow, she was sure it was true, and she couldn't believe the Last Dragon had chosen the bland she-wolf instead of the lioness.

 

"He is supposed to be the son of Prince Rhaegar and he broke his vows to the Night's Watch. I'm not sure we can trust his honor." Mace Tyrell was pretty confident.

 

 _He didn't break his vows; his brothers expelled him because I wanted it to be that way. And he is more Stark than Targaryen, he even made the same offer Ned Stark did._ The Queen would have laughed if she hadn't been that angry.

 

_"You should take your children, your guards, and your gold and flee as far as you can."_

 

"Believe me, Lord Hand. He is telling the truth."

 

"What are we going to do?" Mace Tyrell wasn't that confident anymore.

 

"We'll have to defend the city. If we manage to kill the dragons in battle, and I'm not talking about the beasts, we will win. The fate of the kingdom is in your hands, Lord Mace." If the mother dies, the beasts might decide to abandon Westeros.

 

"The dornish will fall along with them." Mace Tyrell promised with less enthusiasm.

 

_You have no other option, but to fight, coward. If Tommen falls, your little rose will lose everything she has._

ARYA

 

She moved silently in the shadows, looking for her prey. She stopped a single moment to hear clearly; it was only a second, but she knew where she had to go. She pounced fast towards her prey and, she felt the sweet taste of blood when she trapped it between her jaws.

 

"Arya... must return... enough..."

 

She heard a known voice far away; she tried to run, to escape with her prey, but the voice kept getting closer and closer. She felt someone shaking her before opening her eyes.

 

"Gods, I told you not to do it for a long time, it's dangerous." For a moment, she didn't recognize the owner of those aquamarine eyes, fixed upon her.

 

"Cyara..." She remembered. "I need..." She didn't finish but sat up to drink from the jar beside the bed.

 

"One day you won't be able to return." Cyara tried to reprimand her.

 

"I won't do it again. I heard what I needed to hear."

 

"You know when will they arrive?"

 

"Something better. I discovered it wasn't true, but a trick to convince Cersei Lannister to open the gates of the city."

 

“Tyrion’s doing…” Arya shrugged.

 

“Maybe it was Sansa; I don’t give a damn. The only thing I care about is that Jon isn’t in danger.” She felt a great relief.

 

“How did they know it was a trap? Is there a traitor in the Vale's army?"

 

"Aside from Sansa... I don't think so." She bit her lower lip. "It was Jon." She confessed.

 

"Are you sure?" Arya nodded. "Why would he...?" Cyara snorted exasperated. "Your idiot brother it's longing to get killed." She said with scorn, but Arya could see the release written all over her face.

 

"That's the sort of person he is. My father would have done the same." Arya said gloomily. "It's strange, don't you think? Amidst us, Jon is the one who resembles father the most; even he's not his son."

 

"Jon is his son."

 

"I know, I know, blood isn't everything. I find it curious, though." Cyara studied her deeply. “What?”

 

"Aren't you angry for what he did? Cersei Lannister doesn't deserve that kind of consideration."

 

“It relieves me, somehow. I would be sad if the honor of the family disappeared for good. Sansa and I… we have tainted it enough already.” She admitted.

 

"You could stop doing this sort of things."

 

"I can try."

 

 _After I finish my list._ Cyara narrowed her eyes; she had suspected Arya's thoughts. 

 

"I want to witness it."

 

"I don't understand why it worries you that much. You have also killed a good amount of people." Arya shunned the sham reprimands she gave her. Cyara arched a brow as she lifted the bow to sharpen its blades.

 

"They were already dead."

 

"You permitted many to die." She corrected.

 

"Indeed, that will plague me for the rest of my life like your deaths will you. The more deaths, the heavier the burden."

 

 _Does she want to preserve my soul?_ Arya could have laughed. _I believe most of it disappeared after the Red Wedding._ She was certain the remaining of it would extinguish when Jon decided he would return to the Night's Watch. _What does it matter how much sinister it gets if I'm going to lose it either way?_

 

"I'm not afraid of it, but if you want to refrain from taking part in this, I won't blame you." She shook her head, still concentrated on the bow.

 

"I don't enjoy it, but I'm more practical than idealistic and, this is war." Arya smiled; it was comforting to count with her.

 

"Well, then, did you convinced Chataya?"

 

"Always straight to the point," Cyara said with a touch of amusement, "she and her girls are eager to cooperate."

 

 _Perfect_. Arya thought, but she scowled almost immediately.

 

"I believed they would be more reluctant."

 

"Seems like you aren't the only one who has an unsettled matter with Cersei Lannister."

 

"There must be a pretty long line."

 

 _If I get distracted, someone else is going to erase her from my list._ Arya wanted to see Cersei Lannister's face when she received the gift. She pushed the thought aside. _First things first_.

 

"Have you selected the Gate?"

 

"The Gate of Gods." She set the bow aside to extend a map over the bed. "According to the plan two-thirds of the soldiers will face the Tyrell/Lannister army; that would be in the open field. Meanwhile Jon and Aegon will attack the Dragon Gate and the King's Gate respectively." Cyara pointed the places. "That would concentrate the attention of the city forces in two opposite extremes of the city."

 

"And our gate would be right in the middle."

 

"Exactly. If our plan works, Black Balaq's archers would be able to advance in both directions of the wall, take the rest of the gates and provide support inside and outside the city."

 

"I like it, recall me never to become your enemy."

 

"Don't be absurd."

 

"Has Tyene sent the message already?"

 

"Elia went to see her on the morrow."

 

"Good, Nymeria told me she would get the wine barrels and Obara is preparing the rest of her dornish." Cyara assented.

 

"We scarcely have another fortnight before the battle. What else do you need?"

 

"We have to collect enough nightshade* to drug five hundred men." Some of them might even die.

 

 _What does it matter how much sinister it gets if I'm going to lose it either way?_ She winced.

 

"Don't make that face. There's somewhat honor in what you're doing because you're trying to protect your brother." Cyara petted her head and, she replied with a nod.

 

 _She understands._ But Cyara wasn't the one who concerned her. _Will Jon be able to understand?_

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nightshade it's mentioned in the series, however, I don't know if it's the same substance I referred to in this chapter, so I'll explain a little about it. Nightshade is the common name for a plant named Datura stramonium which contains atropine and other alkaloids. Atropine is a powerful substance used for various purposes, one of them anesthesia for surgery procedures and in larger doses can produce death.
> 
> Please keep commenting.
> 
> Next chapter: "Steel Song"


	16. Steel Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did my best to finish this chapter but writing about the battle (as little as I did) was harder for me than writing Daenerys POV. I expect it doesn't seem forced because I didn't want to skip it.
> 
> Akuze and the watcher on the wall, you guys made me laugh a lot with your comments.
> 
> Enjoy.

 

 

 

JON

 

The time had finally come. They were three days away from King's Landing, and he couldn't help feeling anxious. He thought the things he had experienced in the Wall would be enough preparation for the upcoming battle; he was wrong. In the Watch, he had been a defender; now, he was the attacker.

 

Jon waited until the archers from the Golden Company made the last preparations before separating from the main army. Seven hundred men would travel southwest as an attempt to avoid the Crown explorers. After that, they would ride directly to the Gate of Gods, which would be already in possession of the Sand Snakes.

 

 _That is if they manage to conquer the gate._ He didn't want to be pessimistic, but a small group had close to zero possibilities of taking one of the gates of the capital. And knowing Arya was among the little group made it even worse.

 

"Will the crannogmen be able to guide them according to the plan?" Connington hadn't lost his mistrust for the northerners.

 

"No one performs better than a northerner in the countryside, and among us, the crannogmen are the best of the explorers. Nothing escapes from them." Glover provided proudly.

 

"Relax, Old Griffin. The crannogmen will take good care of your archers." Maege Mormont mocked. Connington ignored her.

 

"This plan sounds too good to be true," he turned to Jon, "we're in time to stop it and maintain the original plan."

 

"If we do that, and they succeed to conquer the gate, we would be abandoning them inside the city."

 

"No one told your cousin to plan this kind of madness," Connington buffed, "she was supposed to stay at Storm's End like any other Lady."

 

 _Arya is way too far from being a Lady._ Despite all the stress, the thought made him smile.

 

"It was the princess's idea to send them to King's Landing." Connington couldn't retort to that. He was too interested in making Arianne Martell attractive to him for speaking against one of her ideas.

 

"Stop complaining, Old Griffin. The little Lady knows what she's doing; the North is in her blood." Connington limited to glower before getting away from them.

 

"Thank you, Lady Maege," the woman regarded him curiously, "for having faith in Arya's plan," he explained.

 

"There's no need, my Prince. The fact that we chose you as the ruler of the North doesn't mean we don't respect the young Ladies," she smiled, "and I hold an especial fondness for smart women."

 

"It was a dangerous move, but surely a song will be inspired in her actions," Lord Glover added with enthusiasm.

 

 _I wish I could be as amused as they are._ Arya had trained in the House of Black and White and inspired both, fear and respect among the men, but an open battle was different. Cyara would try to keep her safe, but inside the chaos created during a battle, not even one self’s life was safe.

 

"I only want her to be safe."

 

"We'll pray to the old gods for her victory." Jon limited to nod.

 

They established the campsite the nearest reasonable to the battlefield. There, would remain the smiths, the maesters and the rest of the supplies. Jon forced himself to share the supper previous to the battle with the men.

 

 _'Know the men who follow you and let them know you. Don't ask your men to die for a stranger._ ' Ned Stark's words told him when he was younger.

 

Jon tried to follow every conversation and interact with the men as much as possible. He made his best to transmit them a confidence he didn't feel. He wondered if Aegon felt the same way he did.

 

 _Of course not,_ he thought. Aegon had a natural confidence that inspired those around him. Jon found himself wishing he could at least be more of a Targaryen in that aspect. _Useless._

The dinner lasted more than he would have liked. He expected to get some peace while sleeping, but it didn't happen. He got immersed in a wolf's dream.

 

He had joined his sister's pack right after he found her. For a long time, he had thought he was the last, that he was alone, but it wasn't like that. They had recognized each other immediately, even if his sister was fiercer than she was the last time they saw each other.

 

She was a good leader, for the huge pack of cousins followed her without hesitation. They had limited to look for food until his sister smelled a known scent, her human. His sister was eager to find his human. He couldn't understand the reason. He had been separated from his human as well, it wasn't the first time, but he wasn't worried. They had followed the scent to the North but couldn't find her.

 

 Now, they were traveling south again, trying to return to the place where they first smelled the little human. They didn't find the little human, but a huge pack of them, all steel and horses. His sister decided to attack the human pack, and their cousins followed her. He did the same.

 

The humans hadn't noticed their presence until they had already killed three of them. They continued the attack, and he could hear the screams, smell the fear and taste the blood.

 

It was the taste of blood that woke him right before dawn. For an instant, he felt fear.

 

 _Was the pack attacking Aegon's host?_ He tried to remember anything that could give him a hint about what was happening. _No, there was a rose in the banners._ He hoped the memory to be genuine.

 

Jon took a deep breath before beginning his preparations. He washed his face, dressed and put on the ring mail. He called the squire Connington had selected for him and asked him to bring his armor and shield. He shook his head when he remembered his latest argument with Connington.

 

Connington had been very excited when he showed him the armor he had had made for him. The steel was of great quality, light, resistant and completely black. It looked strangely familiar.

 

"Do you like it?" Connington asked.

 

"It's excellent though an armor is an armor no matter how it looks."

 

"There are some remaining details, like adding the sigil, but it will be ready in time for the battle."

 

"The sigil?" He asked absentmindedly.

 

"The three-headed dragon, of course."

 

He understood why the armor had looked familiar. It was very similar to Aegon's armor, and both of them were surely a copy of the one Rhaegar used at the Trident.

 

"I don't want to carry the three-headed dragon in the armor," he said without thinking, "I've already told you, I'm not Aegon."

 

"Again with that nonsense." Connington roared. "I know you're not Aegon, but you're a Targaryen."

 

 _I don't want to be a Targaryen._ He had accepted he wouldn't be able to return to the Watch, and the rule over Winterfell, but he wasn't able to become a Targaryen. As stupid as it sounded, wearing the Targaryen sigil, more than anything else, made him feel like he wasn't himself anymore.

 

He looked for a way to convince Connington. Telling him he didn't want to be a Targaryen wouldn't make things easier.

 

"You're right, but the Lords of the Vale and the northerners won't like it. Do you remember what Lord Royce said? They won't like to be directed by a Targaryen."

 

"I couldn't care less for what they like."

 

"The armor doesn't need a sigil. It is fine the way it is."

 

"As you wish," was all the answer he got.

 

Two days later, the finished armor had a sigil on it. It was a dire wolf. The beast wasn't gray because Connington would never surrender completely, but white. It looked like Ghost. Jon would never tell Connington how much he had liked the detail, but he knew it was an unspoken acceptance of who he was. He finished his remembrance just in time to thank the squire for his help.

 

He took his place in the center of the column as it began to move. Connington, who was riding by his side, although never protested, scowled every time he saw the white dire wolf. Jon found himself suppressing a smirk every time that happened.

 

Three hours later, the explorers returned to inform that the Tyrell/Lannister army was awaiting them four miles away from their current position.

 

"They want to keep the battle as far as they can from the city." Jon pointed.

 

"They're still close enough to provide support if the city gets into trouble."

 

"Mace Tyrell took his precautions."

 

"Mace Tyrell is worthless as a warrior. Randyll Tarly must be the one who planned this. It is highly possible that he is directing the vanguard."

 

 _Sam's father._ The man possessed a dreadful reputation in the battlefield. During the Rebellion, he had been the only one able to defeat Robert Baratheon.

 

"Maybe we shouldn't split up."

 

"No, we'll continue as planned. If you and Aegon take the city, they'll have to surrender; Margaery Tyrell and Tommen Baratheon are there," he paused, "take your men and ride to the Dragon Gate. If your crannogmen are as competent as you say, the enemy won't notice you until you are already in front of them." Jon nodded.

 

"Be careful, Lord Connington." The man snorted in response.

 

"Make your father proud," he said before riding away to shout orders.

 

"I will," Jon muttered to himself. He wasn't thinking about Rhaegar Targaryen.

 

Jon took the northerners, part of the Golden Company and a few knights of the Vale away from the place where the main battle would take place. They rode for another two hours before seeing the city wall. It was starting to snow; the sun would disappear soon. His heart couldn't beat faster.

 

"Here we are," Glover said.

 

"Your orders, my prince," Mormont prompted him.

 

Jon breathed deeply and observed the red wall for an instant. Arya might be somewhere in the city, preparing to play her part in the battle. He would have liked her to refrain from participating, but Arya wasn't the kind of person who retreated easily.

 

 _You’re braver than I am, little sister._ The only thing left for him to do was to pray Arya, wherever she was, would return unharmed.

 

"Tell the men to take their positions, Lady Maege," he turned to Glover, "prepare the battering ram." The two of them went to do as he had ordered.

 

There was no time left for uncertainties.

 

 

 

ARYA

 

She became more and more nervous with every passing second. There was a weird stillness inside the entire city, and the light snow that was falling added an unrealistic shade to the scene.

 

The citizens had been very anxious for the past days; the memory of the last time someone tried to conquer the city made them fearful. Even the brothel, which was usually noisy, appeared lifeless.

 

Finally, after hours of waiting, the door of the establishment opened. Chataya's girls had returned from their commission.

 

"How did it go?" She asked immediately.

 

"Calm down, little Lady," Chataya reassured her, "we did as you instructed. Those simpletons from the city watch never suspected."

 

"Did they drink the wine?" Arya wasn't able to contain her apprehension.

 

"They did. The especial barrels at the end, just as you asked."

 

"Good," Arya approved, "did someone get hurt? Say the soldier's name and he'll pay for it."

 

"All of my girls are fine; you don't have to worry about them."

 

"Thank you," she said almost timidly, "you all took an unnecessary risk to help us."

 

"No one forced us to do it," the woman reflected a second, "this city has had enough of the cruel lioness that sits on the Iron Throne. I wish the dragons to be better than her."

 

 _Perhaps she hates the Queen as much as I do._ Arya would have liked to know the reason, but there wasn't chance for it.

 

"Time to go Arya." Cyara and the Sand Snakes had returned from their scouting around the city. "The battle outside the walls has already started. It's just a matter of time before the Golden Company makes it to the gate."

 

"Chataya, five dornish will stay here to protect the building once the army passes through the gates. I wish we could leave more guards, but we'll require as much help as possible." Nymeria Sand had become good friends with Chataya and her girls.

 

"I wish you good luck," was her response.

 

"Let's go," Obara Sand ordered and the dornish followed her.

 

"Little Lady," Chataya called her one last time, "I'm sorry about your father, he was a good man."

 

"How?" Arya couldn't be more disconcerted. Chataya smiled.

 

"You both have the same eyes."

 

 _Did my father frequent this brothel?_ It was highly implausible. _Well, it doesn't matter anymore._

The group went down Rhaenys's Hill through the Street of the Sisters, but once they reached the Guildhall of the Alchemists, they moved through the buildings in order to avoid the City Watch. They stopped as close to the gate as possible.

 

There were two hundred soldiers at the bottom of the wall, guarding the stairs that conducted to the battlements. The rest of them were already patrolling the wall.

 

 _We're only fifty. Will we be able to take the gate?_ Arya was starting to doubt about her plan. _Fear cuts deeper than swords._ She repeated to dismiss the doubts.

 

"Now what?" Obara Sand wasn't the most patient woman in the world.

 

"We have to wait," Cyara said and received a scowl, "the wine should take effect soon enough."

 

They heard the sound of a war horn. The noise caused her goosebumps.

 

"The Golden Company," Elia said with apprehension.

 

"Hush, it wasn't our door."

 

"It came from the south."

 

"Then it must be Aegon."

 

Everyone was saying something.

 

"It's enough for me, let's go get that gate." Obara prompted.

 

"I said we have to wait." Cyara hadn't taken her eyes away from the gate. It was almost as if she was expecting the soldiers to give her a signal.

 

 _She's seeing with her eyes._ Arya tried to do the same.

 

The sound of the horn came again, this time from the North.

 

 _Jon is here._ That made her anxiety return, but she calmed herself down. _We’ll see each other again after the battle ends, but first we must take the Gate._

 

The stillness of the city disappeared as if the people inside the wall had finally understood the battle had started. However, the soldiers in front of them had barely paid attention to the sounds and movements from the rest of the city.

 

"Enough waiting!" Obara roared again.

 

"Ssh..."

 

Obara was about to shout again when the chaos finally reached their position. Some soldiers were murmuring, others running from one place to another. The captain appeared from the stairs and shouted something Arya couldn't understand. The soldiers at the bottom of the wall divided, and half of them marched to the south while the rest went North. Only twenty soldiers remained at the bottom of the gate.

 

"How much time has passed since they drank the wine?" Cyara asked without looking at her.

 

"About an hour, I guess."

 

"You can go now." Cyara said to Obara.

 

Obara moved, followed by her sister's and the rest of the dornish. Arya was about to do the same, but Cyara held her arm.

 

"You stay with me."

 

They climbed to the roof of the highest building they could find near the gate. Cyara gave her a bow.

 

"I don't know if I will be able to hit them."

 

"It doesn't matter; it's a distraction."

 

Arya tried to remember the lessons she received from Anguy when she was traveling with the Brotherhood. By the time she decided to shoot, Cyara had already hit two soldiers. The men were confused; none had expected an attack on the inner side the wall. It took them some time to react.

 

Arya did her best with the bow. Nevertheless, she was unfamiliarized with the weapon. For every man she managed to hit, Cyara had already killed five. Once the soldiers discerned the origin of the attacks, it was too late; the dornish appeared right behind them and finished them. The men in the battlements didn't even notice what had happened.

 

They caught up with the Sand Snakes at the bottom of the wall. Before they climbed the stairs, they heard the curses, full of disbelief; the soldiers were finally feeling the effects of the nightshade.

 

They found little resistance. Some of the soldiers had fallen from the parapet walk, most were fast asleep, and the ones who still were awake, were eliminated. The dornish finished those who had fallen sleep as well.

 

"Do we have to kill them all?" Elia wasn't enjoying it.

 

"They would have killed us without hesitation. Better them than us." Obara said like it was the most natural of things.

 

They waited for the archers for nearly an hour, but there wasn't a sign of them. They didn't speak; everyone was listening the distant sound of the steel against the steel and the shouts and cursing that were produced by the battle.

 

"The archers should be here already." Elia voiced everyone's thoughts.

 

"What if they don't come?"

 

"We would be trapped here, who knows how much time we would resist."

 

"Maybe we should escape before they come for us."

 

"Shut up!" Obara silenced them. "If they come for us, we defend the wall until those fucking archers arrive."

 

"My sister is right; we have made it too far to retreat." Lady Nym supported her sister. "Remember our words. Unbowed, unbend, unbroken."

 

"Unbowed, unbend, unbroken." The dornish repeated after her.

 

 _Those are not my words._ They didn't make her feel any better.

 

"What do you think?" Cyara was staring through the battlements.

 

"We still have time."

 

"Someone is coming from the Old Gate," a dornish announced.

 

"Captain, the enemy is about to get through the Dragon Gate!" The man shouted as he ran over the parapet walk, "the soldiers you sent before..." He saw the corpses and turned around to leave. One of the dornish shot him with the crossbow; he didn't run anymore.

 

"More will come after this one." Lady Nym denoted.

 

"They will come from the Lion Gate as well."

 

"Then we'll have to receive them properly," Obara was savoring every second, "we better prepare the defenses."

 

Those who wielded a spear or a sword would fight to defend the parapet walk; the rest would use arrows to prevent the enemy from climbing the stairs. Arya and Elia would be in charge of the boiling oil and the scorpion.

 

"I can fight, you know it." She complained.

 

"I know," Cyara answer without paying much attention to her.

 

"Then why are you leaving me with Elia?"

 

"Because I told Jon I would keep you safe. I have done a rather meager job as it is."

 

"But..."

 

"Listen to me, this one time, please."

 

"Fine."

 

Cyara looked both sides warily before handing her Heartfreezer.

 

"Take it. If things get serious use it to get out of here and take Elia with you."

 

 _Is the situation so bad that she’s considering using this thing?_ She took the sword and bit her lower lip.

 

"I thought you said it was better not to use it."

 

"We'll make an exception today."

 

Not long after, they saw more soldiers approaching their gate.

 

 

 

DAENERYS

 

Dany wondered how many lives had perished until that moment. As things were, she already had to deal with the guilt of abandoning part of the host. Fortunately, the dornish princess had sent support for those who she had left behind. And although they hadn't been able to save everyone, some of her Unsullied had been able to return to Storm's End.

 

The rest of their journey to the capital hadn't been any easier. They moved faster, but the enemy did the same. She had thought that they would end up trapped between both of the enemy's host, but strangely as it appeared, the gods had been on their side that time. The huge pack of wolves that had terrorized the small folk at the Storm Lands assaulted the enemy behind them on the eve of the confrontation.

 

 _Wolves, like the big white beast,_ she thought. _Could this be the Old Gods doing?_ She wondered. Dany had never been religious but after witnessing that event and the things that Moqorro was able to do; maybe she could reconsider her way of thinking. _Although it's not like the gods have always been on our side._ She dismissed her reflections.

 

She had never felt more incompetent in her life. The battle had started hours ago, and even Jon and Aegon had reached the city. Still, all she was able to do was wait for the end of the battle.

 

 _If only I had been taught to wield a sword or something else..._ She sighed; it was like wishing that the Rebellion had never occurred.

 

"When do you think it will end, Ser Barristan?"

 

"It's difficult to tell, my Queen. The Battle of the Trident lasted nearly an entire day."

 

"I wish we could do something else."

 

"Sometimes, my Queen, waiting is the only thing left to do."

 

_That doesn't help those who are fighting out there._

 

"Queen Daenerys, we received a message from the city. The archers have taken the Gate of Gods."

 

 _Finally, good news._ Arya Stark's plan had worked.

 

After what Jon did, their only hope had been the insanity the dornish and Arya Stark had prepared.

 

"Something good came out of all the trouble they caused, but they will have to give an explanation once everything ends." Dany still hadn't forgotten the talk she had had with Petyr Baelish and Moqorro.

 

_I will have to speak with Sansa Stark as well._

 

"With their help, it's only a matter of time before the princes enter the city, my Queen."

 

"I hope so, Ser." Once they took the castle, everything would end.

 

She made an effort to eat something and keep her calm demeanor, but the waiting was becoming unbearable. If she had had a little less control, she would have used the horn to summon Drogon and fly to the city. That way, at least she could be able to witness with her own eyes whatever was happening there.

 

The horn sounded, and her desperation transformed into fear.

 

 _Does this mean we are under attack?_ It was impossible. The only way for the enemy to reach her position would be to crush the unsullied formation. And that could only mean one thing, they had lost.

 

 _I knew it. We should have used the dragons._ Her heart filled with dread, and she reached for Missandei's little hand. The girl squeezed it in an attempt to reassure her.

 

"Stay here, my Queen. It must be something insignificant." Ser Barristan said before leaving the tent.

 

Not long after that, she heard it, first the shouts, then the curses and finally, the screams. She couldn't stand it anymore, and she exited the tent.

 

She had imagined she would find an enormous group of enemies attacking her campsite, but she was wrong. What she found were a bunch of injured men and two soldiers with Lannister armor standing in the middle of them.

 

 _Only two?_ She didn't understand anything.

 

"Get inside, Dany!" Daario shouted; he had a wound in his left arm.

 

The two Lannister soldiers, who had remained still until then regarded her suddenly. They moved towards her without paying attention to anyone else. The soldiers who got in their way ended wounded or worse; they had an otherworldly, overwhelming strength.

 

_They are going to kill me._

 

Three of the Unsullied stepped between her and the Lannister soldiers. One of them managed to pierce the chest plate of one of the attackers with the spear. That would have killed any man, but not them. The Lannister soldier extracted the weapon from his body and used it to kill the stunned Unsullied who had pierced him first.

 

Ser Barristan and the other Unsullied managed to make the unnatural soldiers retreat. Dany couldn't move a single muscle.

 

"Naharis, take the Queen away from here!" Ser Barristan ordered.

 

Daario took her hand and dragged her into the forest.

 

"Daario, wait. They are going to kill them."

 

"They swore to protect your life with their own; they are keeping their word." It was sad but true. She remembered something else.

 

"Missandei, she stayed in the tent. We must go back for her." Daario stopped and held her face with both of his hands.

 

"You're the Queen. If you die, everything they have been fighting for is useless."

 

"She's just a girl."

 

"Weren't you the one who told the Silver Prince that rulers must make harsh decisions?"

 

Dany surrendered, and they kept escaping, but they didn't know those lands. They got to a dead end, and Lannister monsters were able to find them or maybe, there were more than two of them. Daario unsheathed the arakh and kissed her hand.

 

"How many men can say that they lived and died at your command, Dragon Queen?" He stepped forward.

 

"Daario, don't."

 

Just as the monsters were about to get to him, Dany heard a known sound.

 

_It must be a hallucination produced by the fear._

 

She felt the heat before seeing the flames. The two monsters were burning under the dragon fire. Drogon had never looked more magnificent in her eyes.

 

Daario dragged her away from the fire. They embraced each other as they watched the monsters turn into ashes.

 

They returned to the campsite where the situation was worse than she had perceived when she ran away from there. The monsters had injured tens of men and killed a dozen, Grey Worm included. Ser Barristan couldn't be more relieved when he saw her.

 

"My Queen, we thought the worst when those things got away from the campsite."

 

She composed herself before speaking. There would be time for the mourning.

 

"Drogon followed us from Storm's End; he saved our lives. I don't know how he knew I was in danger."

 

"You're the Mother of Dragons. You share an especial bond with your children." Moqorro appeared out of nowhere.

 

_But Rhaegal and Viserion didn't come to help me._

 

"What were those things?"

 

"We can't be sure, but there was dark magic behind them, my Queen," Moqorro answered.

 

"Is it possible that there are more of them?"

 

_Maybe Rhaegal and Viserion went to save their riders as well._

 

"Whatever it was that created those monsters, it's not easy to perform. I don't think there's an army of them, but maybe more than those that came here."

 

The priest seemed to have all the answers.

 

"Is Dragonfire the only way to fight them?"

 

"They are made of darkness. I think any kind of fire would do."

 

"We need to send a messenger into the city, Ser Barristan. If there are more of those monsters, they might be after my nephews.” The other two had lost interest in the campsite after she left. “We have to warn them and tell them how to deal with these things."

 

"Why don't you send Drogon into the city?" Daario suggested.

 

"It's dangerous, he could cause more harm than benefit." If something were to upset him, Drogon could end up burning the city with everyone inside.

 

"I'll send the message, my Queen." Ser Barristan moved to obey the order.

 

Dany prayed the message would arrive in time.

 

 

 

CYARA

 

She bandaged yet another wound of another soldier before sitting to take a break. She moved the fingers from her both hands to prevent them from becoming numb. She observed the soldiers, running from one place to another, shouting, cursing or even laughing. The situation had finally calmed enough for some of them to laugh.

 

 _This plan was insane. We barely managed to make it._ She glanced at Arya; the little rascal had better guts for war than Cyara did. Right now, she was commenting something with Elia Sand as if nothing had happened. _Jon is going to kill me when he finds out what happened here._ She was sure a million of different rumors would run through the city once the battle had concluded. And each one would be worse than the previous one.

 

Their little group had resisted five attempts of the City Watch to recover the Gate of Gods. Each one of them had been more challenging than the previous one. The wall had been built to resist attacks from the outside; trying to defend their position from inner assaults had been almost impossible.

 

The enemy had underestimated them because of their numbers, and most of the members of the group were women. That had been a great advantage during the first and the second assault, but the last one had been brutal.

 

Reinforcements for the enemy had been sent from the Lion Gate and the Old Gate at the same time. The battle to defend the parapet walk had taken the lives of three dornish. At least a dozen were critically wounded, and she had got a horrible headache from a blow she received with a shield.

 

If they had been able to resist, was due to the dornish's fierceness during battle. All of them were incredibly skilled; each dornish worthed as much as five soldiers from the City Watch. Besides, she had to recognize Arya and Elia had been very creative with the scorpion; a great part of their success had been their doing.

 

Black Balaq had arrived, guided by the crannogmen, at the climax of the fifth battle.  At that moment, they weren't able to reach the bottom of the wall to open the gate. Their opponent had invaded the stairs entirely, so they couldn't get down. Some kept fighting at the top of the wall while others were busy, trying to find a way to get down. However, it had been the two younger members of their party who acted effectively. They took two barrels of fuel and made them explode in the stairs, providing the opportunity to get down.

 

Cyara had gone down with the two older Sand Snakes to open the gate. Once it was open, the enemy had fled from the Golden Company, which outnumbered them. That signed the end of their fight. Madness or not, they had reached their goal; the archers of the Golden Company had now control of the entire wall of the city. With their support, Jon and Aegon had broken into the city and were currently assaulting the Red Keep. With some luck, they would be able to enter the castle soon.

 

Obara Sand passed in front of her; she was clearly eager to participate in another fight. The eyes of the dornish woman told her there was a hunger for blood inside her that wouldn't quench unless she killed another thousand men. The thought made her shiver.

 

After witnessing how the Sand Snakes, particularly Obara, fought, Cyara was grateful that it hadn't been her who tried to attack Arya after the incident with Aegon. Obara was full of a rage that transformed into her strength, but at the same time, she kept a calm demeanor that made her lethal. Her impatient nature ended whenever a battle started.

 

 _It would have hurt, a ton._ It would have been ten times more difficult than dealing with Victarion Greyjoy. _Maybe she would have won._ Cyara didn't even want to think about it. _I guess I'm fortunate we ended up on the same team._ She sighed.

 

"Rememorating better days, my Lady?" Balaq sat beside her. She smiled at him; he was a good man.

 

Balaq was the only captain who respected Jon, and not as a consequence of being Aegon's bother. He had never called him Bastard Prince, like many others did. Therefore, when the Golden Company split between the two princes, Connington assigned most of the archers to Jon's party. And an extra point for her was that Balaq recognized her ability regardless of her gender.

 

"Yes, captain. I'm longing for the days before I met the dragons. Life was easier then." He burst into laughter.

 

_Only if the last eight years can be considered a proper life._

 

"We all do, dear Lady. But no one dares to say it aloud in front of the dragons."

 

"Fire and blood?" He smiled widely.

 

"In our case it would be Ice and blood." That made her smile.

 

"Jon has created quite a reputation in the Vale, hasn't he?" It was expected of him.

 

"Some Lords and most of the Ladies have taken to call him the Ice Dragon. I thought the northerners would protest, but they rather liked the nickname. Lady Mormont even commented it was perfect, considering his Stark/Targaryen blood."

 

"And what does he thinks about it?" Balaq snorted.

 

"He couldn't care less about the nickname until a Lady calls him that way. Those girls interpret his reticence to be a prince as a mysterious personality."

 

"How absurd. I'd love to see him dealing with those Ladies." She said without thinking.

 

"It's very amusing. It will get even better now that he will become the Lord of Winterfell."

 

"What did you said?" That had been unexpected.

 

"Ah, of course. You weren't there when the northerners arrived. They almost demanded him to become the leader of the North, Lord Connington couldn't have been more pleased."

 

 _As if the princess needed another reason to go after him._ She considered with a bit of disgust. Disgust? _Oh, no... no, no, no, impossible._ Tyrion couldn't be right. _I'll definitely kill him the next time I see him._

 

Balaq was staring at her curiously. She composed herself; that was not the time to acknowledge trivial matters.

 

"And he accepted right away?" She tried to sound neutral.

 

"Well, he didn't resist that much."

 

"I see." She realized she didn't know him as well as she had thought. "Could you keep this from Arya, captain?"

 

"I thought she would like to hear about it." He was perplexed.

 

"She will, but I think it's better if he tells her himself."

 

_If something happens before they get to Winterfell, she won't be able to stand it._

 

"I understand."

 

"Do you know anything about the battle outside, captain?" She wanted to change the topic.

 

"Not much. Looks like we were somewhat on par with them."

 

"So, everything will be decided inside the castle."

 

"So it seems."

 

"Captain, the princes have requested support in the Red Keep. They cornered the last of the city forces inside the fortress. We need the archers to assist the attack." One of the soldiers interrupted.

 

"Ah! Peace never last," Black Balaq protested, "Do you think a hundred men will be enough?" He asked to the messenger.

 

"Only a hundred? I thought the wall was already under control."

 

"Look, lad. Part of the enemy's host could appear out of nowhere, just like we did. My men can't leave this wall until the battle inside and outside the city, ends. A hundred men is all I can provide."

 

"We can go too." Obara Sand stepped forward.

 

Cyara gave Arya a side look, and she knew they were going with the Sand Snakes.

 

"Very well, don't waste precious time and go." The captain of the archers gave orders to his subordinate and a hundred men directed to the fortress that was the Red Keep.

 

Cyara stood up and picked up her bow, Heartfreezer, and the quiver before following the rest.

 

"Hey, Lady!" Balaq shouted, "If you die, that magnificent bow of yours will become mine."

 

 _How can he jape even during a situation like this? Well, it doesn't matter._ She only shook her head as an answer.

 

They followed the avenue that went directly from the Gate of Gods to the Red Keep. The fight between the defensors of the city against Jon and Aegon had left terrible damages to some places and innumerable corpses in the streets. However, that had been at least an hour ago, and now the silence had covered the city the same way the snow had. From time to time, a citizen would watch them through a window and retreat almost immediately.

 

In front of the fortress, they found a group of distressed northerners, dornish, and men from the Golden Company. Aegon and Jon were nowhere to be seen. Something was going wrong.

 

"What happened?" Obara demanded to know.

 

"We were separated right before the start of the assault; I have no idea where those Lannister came from. A small group, the princes' included, were pushed into the castle and the doors were closed right behind them." Franklyn Flowers explained.

 

The knight from the Golden Company tried to reorganize the now headless host in order to enter the fortress and prevent a tragedy from occurring.

 

 _Did they allow us to take the city wall in order to distract us from this trap?_ After all the efforts they had made, everything would end in the worst way possible because of a stupid mistake. _Idiot, idiot, idiot._ She felt even stupider for not seeing that come. _I should have never left him in the first place._ She pondered.

 

Before knowing it, she was already being dragged away from the crowd by Arya and the Sand Snakes were following her lead.

 

"Where are we going?"

 

"We're entering the castle, and I'm going to finish this the way I should have done it the moment I entered this fucking city again." Cyara didn't have to ask.

 

"Wait," Cyara stopped her, "calm down first."

 

"There's no time for your moral reprimands. If you don't want to come, then don't, but don't try to stop me."

 

_Gods, we don't have time for this._

 

"If we're going to do this, you have to contain your anger. If you don't think clearly, you're not going to be able to help anyone." Her short temper couldn't get in their way, not this time.

 

"I just..." Her voice cracked; she had been hiding her fear behind anger.

 

"I get it. Nothing will happen to him." She promised recklessly and Arya nodded.

 

Arya conducted them to the place where the castle's sewers joined with the river. Then they followed a dark tunnel for what seemed an eternity until they reached the narrow window from a basement that connected to the main yard. They could hear the ruckus of the army trying to enter the castle

 

"We're in, now what?" Obara susurrated.

 

"There's no one in the yard. Shouldn't they be fighting here?"

 

"If there's no way out, the only thing they could do was keep advancing."

 

"The Throne Room?" Elia suggested.

 

"Sounds plausible. Let's go Arya"

 

They hadn't given a couple of steps when they heard the war horn from one of the city gates.

 

"What is it now?" Obara was furious.

 

Cyara waited and it sounded again.

 

"Move faster. One of the armies is approaching the city. We can't afford the luxury of discovering which one."

 

They found few soldiers in their way, but most of them were containing Franklyn Flowers, so they made it to the gallery of the Throne Room without major setbacks.

 

Arya was the first to cross the door, but she stopped suddenly. The Sand Snakes stumbled upon her back and stopped as well; none of them were able to move. Cyara was the last to enter and observe the scene that had paralyzed the rest.

 

A blonde woman, who could only be Cersei Lannister, sat on the Iron Throne with four guards by her side. From the group that had entered the Red Keep, only Jon and Aegon remained standing; the rest were more likely already dead. Before them stood the largest man she had ever seen; he was wearing the white armor of the royal guard and wielded a broadsword with a single hand. He was moving forward to slay the dragons.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how was it? Do you think the conversation between Balaq and Cyara was out of place? In my head, it was kind of necessary.
> 
> The next chapter will start shortly before the end of this one.
> 
> Pd: How was the badass name for Jon? It will acquire greater significance in the next chapter.  
> billyboy, I told you. You had almost got it.


	17. No Victory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm done writing battles... 
> 
> I wrote this as fast as I could because I realized the last chapter had created a lot of expectation among the readers, but I only managed to update one day ahead of the one-week deadline.
> 
> Finally, this story is the product of a group of separate ideas that had been inside my head for some time. Those ideas became the pillars of the overall story. The battle against Robert Strong is one of those pillars, that's why I hope it turns out fulfilling for you to read it.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

 

AEGON

 

He heard the sound of the King's Gate cracking due to the impact of the battery ram. It was thrilling and intimidating at the same time. Beyond the Gate, the battle would continue, and would take uncountable lives. But he would be the first Targaryen in eighteen years to set feet inside the city. The place from which his ancestors ruled over the Kingdom during three centuries.

 

They were still being attacked from the battlements; hundreds of arrows and other projectiles kept raining from the top of the city wall, but that wouldn't be enough to stop him. He gave the order and the vanguard of his host advanced.

 

 They found six hundred men awaiting them, but the battle wasn't what he had expected. Just as the two parties were about to confront each other, more arrows rained from the city wall. This time, there was a difference though; they were raining for the enemy. With the support received from the Wall, they had an easy victory.

 

"Prince Aegon, it's good to see you're safe." The leader of that fraction of archers greeted him.

 

"Thank you, captain. Your men have been of great help. However, I would like you to provide support for my brother."

 

"Don't worry, my prince. The Golden company has full control of the wall from the Dragon Gate to the King's gate; we'll take the remaining two soon enough. Your brother is already inside the city." Aegon smiled.

 

 _I'll be indebted to those women for the rest of my life._ He knew the Sand Snakes had an infamous notoriety, but what they did was simply amazing.

 

"Do you know if my brother has started to move towards the castle?"

 

"The last I hear was that he was reorganizing his host, Your Grace."

 

"Send a messenger to them. We are going to join them."

 

"Yes, Your Grace."

 

He ordered his men to direct to the King's square, where they would join forces with Jon. In the Street of Steel, some skirmishes took place, but the enemy kept retreating.

 

Jon was already in the square waiting with his northerners and knights of the Vale. Aegon knew the conquering of the city should be his priority, but he couldn't suppress his emotion when he saw his brother was safe. Jon was staring at the void absent-mindedly; he didn't regard Aegon until he called him.

 

"Jon, I'm glad to see you're fine." Aegon removed his helmet. Jon turned to him a little dumbfounded. To his surprise, Jon greeted him with a smile.

 

"I'm as fine as someone can be in the middle of this."

 

"What? Are you already tired? And I was planning to share the glory of victory with you." He teased.

 

"How generous..." his expression darkened, "we haven't won yet."

 

_Always so negative._

 

"You're right, but we're almost there."

 

"I hope so." Jon removed a lock of hair from his eyes. "Aegon, I know it's not the time, but what I did..."

 

"I understand," he interrupted, "I know you weren't trying to affect me. You did what you thought right. I shouldn't have reacted that way, either." Jon only assented, but he seemed relieved.

 

Aegon still couldn't understand the way Jon thought. In his eyes, the Lannisters didn't deserve any consideration. He wanted them to pay. Jon Arryn, Robert Baratheon, and Eddard Stark especially had had understandable reasons to start the Rebellion. Tywin Lannister didn't have any to do what he did. That monster had acted for his personal benefit and revenge towards Aegon's grandfather. That didn't justify by any means the murder of his mother and Rhaenys. Neither had he plausible basis to plan the massacre that was the Red Wedding.

 

 _Eddard Stark must have been a way better man than I ever thought._ Aegon and Jon had received a different kind of guidance during their lives. That was the only conclusion he had been able to achieve.

 

"Have you seen your sister, already?" Aegon knew Jon should be troubled for her.

 

"No, it wasn't the time. But I received a message from Balaq saying she was alright, and had performed excellently during battle." Jon smiled again. "She's unstoppable."

 

"Aegon, Jon, we're ready." Duck came from the rear of the host.

 

"I'd like to wait a little more. I sent explorers ahead," Jon said.

 

"You sent explorers ahead inside the city?" It was a bit odd.

 

"Did you find resistance to get here, Aegon?"

 

"Some minor fights. Why?" Jon had a pensive expression.

 

"It was the same for us. I don't understand it. They violently resisted our entrance to the city, but the further we advanced, the less resistance we found."

 

"You think it's a trap?"

 

"After all the fights that had taken place, they can't be very strong. Still there's something I don't like."

 

"Excuse me, Your Grace." A small man appeared. "We went as far as we could. The last of the city forces gathered and entered the castle."

 

"How many of them?"

 

"Around a hundred. Lannister, Tyrell, and the last part of the city watch."

 

"Thank you, Eldon." Jon turned to him. "What do you think, Aegon?"

 

"No one has died from being cautious."

 

They discussed the situation and decided to divide their host into three groups of four hundred men. Aegon and Jon would direct the Golden Company in the Dragon's Way directly to the castle. The northerners and the dornish would take a detour in two different directions and flank their advance from a prudent distance. They also sent a messenger to ask for the support of Balaq's archers to attack the fortress.

 

Their precautions weren't enough.

 

In the place where the Dragon's Way and the Hook met, they were ambushed by soldiers disguised as commoners that had been hiding in the buildings. Aegon wasn't able to count them, but he knew their numbers weren't insignificant. The attackers had surrounded and divided the group. He found himself throwing lunges right and left to set free from his attackers but eventually got unhorsed. He stood up and turned to look for a way out and realized the only option was moving forward.

 

"Keep advancing!" he shouted, "with me! If we stay here, we're finished!" He yelled to anyone who could hear him.

 

He and the few men who had followed him were running directly to the Red Keep. There was no other way. Every time they tried to turn or stray from the Dragon's Way, they were pushed back by the enemy.

 

"The gates of the fortress are opened, and we're running directly to them." At some point, Jon had caught up with him.

 

"I guess now we can be sure it was a trap." Duck offered as they continue racing; the enemy was right behind them.

 

"We fell for it. Now, what?" They were running out of time.

 

"Better facing one hundred than get annihilated by a thousand."

 

In the end, they entered the fortress. The noise the door made when it closed, sent a shiver through his spine. The castle was quiet and the yard was illuminated by the torches from the top of the wall.

 

"This is strange." One of the soldiers who had followed him muttered. They hadn't been ambushed inside the Keep as they had expected.

 

"We have to hide somewhere until the rest make it into the castle. Here we could be attacked any time." Jon was looking at every possible direction.

 

"I think the Throne room will do." If he had to guess where the remaining soldiers were, that would be Maegor's Holdfast, sheltering the Royal family. There was no reason for anyone to be in the Throne Room.

 

He was proved wrong.

 

When they made it into the building, Cersei Lannister was sitting on the Throne, drinking wine. She had three guards and a maester by her side. She regarded his group with some indifference.

 

"I told you, Qyburn. I know how men think."

 

"You certainly do, Your Grace." The maester answered with a smile.

 

 _Has this woman gone crazy?_ Aegon felt as sudden rage when he saw the daughter of Tywin Lannister sitting on the Throne. He turned to see Jon was as stunned as he was.

 

"Get off that Throne!" He roared. "You have no right to be sitting there!"

 

"You're wrong, Silver Prince. It was always my destiny to be here."

 

He clenched his fists as the anger took him over.

 

"You're completely mad, Cersei Lannister, but this is over. You and your family will pay for what you did to my mother and sister." That made her scowl.

 

"You want to blame me for what happened to your insignificant mother?" She laughed hysterically and Aegon could see her eyes shining with diversion. "I think you're a bit confused. If you want to blame someone for your disgrace, blame the man who is standing by your side; his whore mother started everything. Or maybe you could blame your crazy grandfather. If he had accepted the match my father had proposed, Rhaegar wouldn't have looked for what your mother wasn't able to give him. And you would have been my son."

 

"I would die a thousand times before having you as a mother."

 

"Excellent, but for me is more than enough if you die a single time."

 

Aegon heard the main door closing at his back, but he didn't care.

 

"Surrender, you are outnumbered." Thirty men were enough to subdue four.

 

"Oh, I'll show you what outnumbered means," she made a signal with her hand and an immense man appeared from behind the Throne, "you want justice for your mother? Come and get it," she smiled. "Ser Robert, kill them all."

 

His soldiers unsheathed their swords and positioned in front of him. While he saw the huge man approaching them with his broadsword in hand, Aegon realized something. That man was very dangerous. He didn't have time to warn the others; the man moved faster than any other man of the same complexion would have; in no time, he was already over them.

 

With a single swing of the giant sword, he cut a man from the shoulder to the hip. The rest of the soldiers moved forward but weren't able to hurt the royal guard. The giant didn't even bother to defend himself, for his armor was enough to deflect every blow. It was unbelievable that a man could carry such a heavy thing and still move. He moved fast enough to prevent his enemies from hitting the weak sites of the armor, and if someone got too close, that someone found death. It was impossible to deal with that monster.

 

Only a few minutes were enough for the monster to massacre the men that had entered the Throne Room. Those who had not died immediately were agonizing because of the horrible wounds. The sound of the steel against the steel and the screams of pain became unbearable for him.

 

 _This massacre was my fault. I led them to this horrible end._ He was completely stunned, unable to move.

 

"Aegon!"

 

Jon's voice made him lift his gaze to see the monster coming after him. Duck pushed him aside and stood between the monster and him. Duck raised the shield immediately, but it wasn't enough to stop the blow. The shield crushed with a horrible sound. The impact sent Duck flying and, he crashed into a column. He didn't stand up again.

 

"Duck!" He started to shiver.

 

"I thought you were going to be the one taking all the glory, Aegon. If you don't move, I'm going to end this thing alone."

 

"Are you mad? That armor is impenetrable."

 

"Maybe Valyrian steel will do. We have to give it a try or die."

 

 _How pathetic._ _The future King of Westeros is being lectured by his younger brother._ He strengthened his grip upon _Blackfyre._ He would fight until the end. _Damn, Connington will be so mad at me,_ he thought. _Well, if I die, I won't have to hear the reprimand._

 

"I thought I was the cocky one, brother."

 

He charged will all he had, dodged mortal blows and attacked every time he found the opportunity. Jon was doing the same, but no matter how much they exerted themselves, the only thing they had managed to do was scratch the monstrous armor. At some point, the giant made him retreat so much that he tripped over the corpse of one of the dead soldiers. Aegon saw the monster raising the broadsword to finish him.

 

_Fuck, now I'm truly done._

Jon appeared in front of him and stopped the broadsword with his own, but the force of the giant was overwhelming. The impact made Jon fall to his knees. The both of them were going to get murdered with a single stroke. He closed his eyes, waiting for the mortal blow, but it never happened.

 

He opened his eyes and got bewildered by the scene. A beautiful dornish woman with black hair had helped Jon to deflect the impact of the broad sword with two daggers. The giant raised its weapon again, the woman and Jon retreated, and Aegon felt how someone pulled him back, it was Arya Stark. Immediately after that, Elia and Obara appeared and launched endless attacks with the spears. Obara hit the head of the giant with all her strength; the helmet flew and fell to the ground with a metallic sound. A split-second later, an arrow was sticking out of the giant's head. The huge man and his monstrous armor fell back uproariously; the sound was both scary and relieving.

 

 _Truly pathetic._ He thought as Jon helped him to stand up. _Five women did what thirty men couldn't._

 

"What the hell was that?" Obara demanded to know.

 

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I have never been happier to see you, cousin," he said as he recovered some breath.

 

"Ser Gregor, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei. One down, three to go." He heard Arya Stark whisper behind him.

 

"Was that Gregor Clegane?" He asked aloud. Now he understood Cersei Lannister's words.

 

The mention of the name made the Sand Snakes stiffen.

 

"I knew it! I knew that whore had tried to deceive us." Obara was burning with anger.

 

"You don't have any idea of how pathetic you are." Cersei Lannister burst into laughter.

 

_This woman is nuts, definitely._

They left the giant corpse behind and started to move towards the Throne.

 

"I want her head on my spear!" Obara roared. "Do you think you can take care of the other guards, cousin? Or I'll have to carry you and set you on the Throne?"

 

Aegon didn't have time to answer to the jest. All had started to move again.

 

"Ah!" The maester had shot Jon with a crossbow. The arrow hit him on the left shoulder.

 

Cyara, who had been looking for survivors, turned and an arrow appeared in the maester's chest. Arya Stark couldn't be more furious; she overtook them and raced towards Cersei Lannister.

 

"Arya, wait! I'm fine, it was a scratch. The armor stopped it." Jon extracted the arrow himself and started to follow his sister desperately.

 

"So you were alive, little scumbag," Cersei said with disdain. "I've had enough of all you. Ser Robert, stand up and finish them already," she ordered.

 

_What did she say?_

They heard the sound of the steel clanking as the huge man who should be dead stood up. He turned and saw the monster standing again and extracting the arrow from his head.

 

"I've had enough. Ser Ilyn, Ser Boros, Ser Meryn, escort me to my private chambers. Ser Robert will take care of this."

 

"She's escaping!" Obara screamed.

 

"I think we have more serious matters to attend, sister." Elia had widened her eyes completely.

 

"We have to resist until the rest make it into the castle," he tried to transmit them some confidence.

 

"I don't think numbers will make a difference here, Aegon." Jon had unsheathed _Longclaw_ , again. "Cyara, is he one of them?" She shook her head minutely. "Are you sure?"

 

"Believe me; I have killed a good amount of those."

 

"Then Valyrian steel won't make a difference, either."

 

Aegon didn't understand a single word of what they were saying. But based on their expressions, it was bad.

 

_How are we supposed to kill something that is already dead?_

 

"Let's try beheading him," he decided.

 

They attacked the monster from different angles, but its size and broadsword prevented them to reach the head. The spears were long enough but lacked strength. And the swords were too short to be helpful.

 

They continued moving in circles, trying to dodge the attacks and find opportunities to act. Soon all of them were drained, but there was no change in their situation.

 

Aegon was starting to get desperate until Jon managed to cut the hand of Gregor Clegane, the one that wielded the weapon. From the stump a dark liquid dripped, filling the air with a nauseating smell.

 

_What is this?_

 

Obara charged against the monster and tried to pierce the chest plate with her spear, but the armor was too thick and the shaft broke. That left Obara unprotected. Clegane turned and hit her sideways with his fist, breaking her arm; she fell to the ground, shrieking in pain. Clegane moved to finish her.

 

"Obara!" Elia and the other woman cried in unison and ran to her.

 

The closer to her, though, was Cyara, who immediately got in Clegane's way. He moved the arm to strike her and she positioned the bow in his way. The bow didn't break, but Cyara lost grip of it. She cursed and reached for the sword, which had fallen from the belt at some point; it was behind Clegane's feet. She took the shield Obara had left behind and used it to receive the blow. She felt to the floor coughing; the air had been knocking away from her.

 

"Clegane!" Jon called as he held _Longclaw_ in front of him.

 

Clegane took the sword by the blade and tossed it away. Just then, Aegon heard the doors opening behind him. Their reinforcements had arrived, but Jon didn't retreat. Instead, he picked up Cyara's sword and unsheathed it. When he saw it, he looked astonished for an instant, for the sword was uncommon; it resembled ice.

 

Jon met Clegane's fist with the sword, and the white enameled gauntlet turned light blue. He then slashed the chest plate. The steel acquired the appearance of a frozen lake and the shattered like crystal, opening a hole in the armor. Jon stabbed Clegane, and Aegon saw the man's eyes turning blue. This time, Jon retreated.

 

"Valyrian steel, Aegon!" He yelled.

 

There wasn't chance to understand what had happened. He thrust _Blackfyre_ through Clegane's body. The armor shattered completely, and the body inside it melted. He stood still, staring what remained of Gregor Clegane.

 

"Two Dragons! We have Two Dragons!" Someone behind him roared.

 

"The Fire Dragon and the Ice Dragon!"

 

"The sons of Prince Rhaegar!"

 

The multitude continued cheering and dragged him away from his shock. It was not the time to celebrate; they had unsolved matters to attend.

 

"Silence!" He ordered. "Cersei Lannister is inside Maegor's Holdfast. We must capture her and the rest of the Royal family. Those who still have energy will come with me. The rest must look after the injured."

 

The men separated the corpses from the injured. Only Duck and three members from the Golden Company had survived the fight against Gregor Clegane.

 

"We received a message from the Wall. We won the battle in the open field. Lord Connington will arrive anytime, Your Grace." Franklyn Flowers approached him.

 

"Those are excellent news. Inform to the rest of the men, they will like that."

 

"Yes, Your Grace."

 

"I sent the northerners to explore every inch of this place. They'll make sure no one surprises us again." Aegon nodded.

 

“We barely made it, didn’t we?” He stared into Jon’s eyes.

 

“I would consider us more than fortunate,” Jon answered as he clasped the hilt of the strange sword.

 

"Can you explain to me what just happened?" He whispered.

 

"I will, but I think this is not the right time.”

 

"You’re right.” He had a look of the maester attending Cyara. “Are her injuries grave?" He ventured, “She saved my cousin,” he tried to explain his concern.

 

"Two or three broken ribs and a sprained wrist. She's far from being the worst injured." Jon glanced nervously to the back door of the Throne Room. "Are we ready to leave?"

 

Arya Stark had followed Cersei Lannister when she left the room, which meant she was alone inside Maegor's Holdfast. Jon had remained calm for the sake of the rest, but he was eager to go after her.

 

"I'll give the... Are you feeling well?" Jon was sweating.

 

"I feel dizzy. It must be the shock."

 

He collapsed.

 

"Jon!" He didn't know what to do.

 

"Move, Aegon!" Cyara pushed him and winced as she kneeled. "He has a fever." She declared.

 

Everyone was staring at them.

 

"But he wasn't injured... he…the arrow from the maester," he remembered

 

"It must have been poisoned," she looked at him with pleading eyes, "you have to bring Arya, now."

 

Aegon nodded like an idiot before ordering the invasion of the Holdfast.

 

They entered the little fortress smoothly; everything was silent. He didn't know where to look until he saw the first corpse. The Lannister guard had bled to death due to a wound in the throat. That one was only the first one of the many he found, one after another.

 

Aegon followed the track of dead soldiers until he found Arya kicking a door furiously. Her tunic had countless blood stains on it.

 

He was shocked by her appearance. Aegon knew very well that she was a Faceless Assassin; she had almost killed him once. But he realized he hadn't fully understood the extent of her abilities. She didn't match the child Jon had described.

 

 _I've been underestimating her all this time._ He wondered if Jon was aware of whom she had become.

 

"Open! I'll erase your name from my list one way or another, Queen Cersei." A royal guard with auburn hair was dying at her feet.

 

"Arya," he called hesitantly.

 

She turned to him. Her expression was full of wrath. The worst part was her eyes. They were like Jon's, but he had never seen such hatred emanating from his brother's eyes.

 

"You have to return to the Throne Room." He said cautiously.

 

"I won't until I stab that whore to death." She answered in a low tone.

 

He swallowed; he was scared of the girl in front of him. And based on the expression his men had, they were even more frightened.

 

"I think Jon would want to give her a fair trial."

 

"She doesn't deserve that," she hissed. "I'll make her pay for murdering my family. I'll make her pay for hurting _our_ brother."

 

 _I have to try something different._ Trying to talk her out of her search for revenge would only get him killed.

 

"If you don't return right now, _our_ brother will die. That arrow was poisoned. You're the only one who can save him." That softened her expression a little.

 

"If you are lying..." She narrowed her eyes.

 

"I'm not," he interrupted, "I'll make sure Cersei Lannister doesn't escape. You have my word."

 

Arya Stark observed him before sheathing Needle and walking down the hall. The men got out of her way as if she were a giant who would crush them. Even he had to admit he was relieved that she was gone.

 

"Open the door," he ordered.

 

_I have to end this._

 

The men knocked down the door. There were no guards, just Cersei Lannister with her children.

 

_Did her men abandon her?_

 

"Well, do it already. Get your revenge. Massacre us like your mother and sister." She defied him.

 

"If I were in your position, I would take care of my words." He realized his voice contained anger.

 

At that moment, he got a look at the eyes of Tommen and Myrcella Baratheon; they were full of dread. For an instant, their fear was a reflection of the fear his mother and sister felt all those years ago and the glory of battle faded. He had finally got what Jon had tried to tell him.

 

 _They had nothing to do with their family's actions._ If Tommen Baratheon sat on the Iron Throne was because of his grandfather's ambition. They were supposed to get rid of them to secure the Iron Throne, but he would not allow the reign of the Dragons to start that way. _They are only kids._

 

"Cersei Lannister, when the time comes, you will be judged for your crimes against the Realm. But no one will touch your children; they got nothing to do with this." She didn't answer.

 

"Prince Aegon, Lord Connington..." Franklyn Flowers started.

 

"I know what he said, but he is not the one who decides. You will guard them, captain. If something happens to them, I'll hold you responsible."

 

"Yes, Your Grace."

 

"Good."

 

_Now I can only wish Dany thinks the same way I do._

 

 

 

CYARA

 

Breathing was difficult, but she wasn't sure whether it was because of the strike she had received or the concern she felt. She could only stand there watching how Arya treated Jon.

 

She had been aware she wouldn't be able to help her, yet she couldn't stay where the rest of the injured were. She couldn't stand hearing the cries of pain anymore, they were driving her crazy.

 

Arya finished what she was doing.

 

"Is he going to recover?"

 

"Do you think I would be this composed if not?"

 

"You're right."

 

Arya stared at her as if she was waiting for her to say something.

 

"What?"

 

"I'm waiting for the lecture about my behavior."

 

"I don't have energy left to do that." Arya arched a brow with skepticism.

 

"And I thought I had seen you worried when I poisoned Aegon."

 

"That wasn't the same."

 

"How was it different?"

 

"That time I wasn't worried about Aegon, but the consequences his death would bring. If he had died, Daenerys could have done something against Jon." Arya thought for a moment.

 

"I think I get it now." She gave her a wolfish smile. One of the kind she made whenever she was thinking of something amusing. She didn't ask about it.

 

Someone knocked the door. Cyara didn't have to ask who it was; she could hear Connington's voice. She opened; the man entered and closed right behind him.

 

"How is he?"

 

"He will get better," Arya said confidently.

 

"Haldon told me it was a rare substance."

 

"Haldon and the one who did this are from the Citadel. The Citadel doesn't know half the things the House of Black and White do."

 

"Fine, I'll leave everything in your hands," he turned to Cyara, "come with me girl."

 

She followed him to the Small Hall of Maegor's holdfast.

 

"I want to know what happened in the Throne Room."

 

"Haven't you already questioned the others?" She wasn't in the mood to speak with the man.

 

"I have, but I find what they told me rather unbelievable."

 

"Every word was true."

 

He looked relieved by her confirmation.

 

"I thought Daenerys was going mad, like her father."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"When we met at the entrance of the city, she told me two of those things had attacked the campsite."

 

"How did they kill those?"

 

"Drogon burnt them."

 

"I see."

 

Daenerys had been lucky that the black dragon had followed her from Storm's End. Otherwise, she would be dead.

 

"Do you think you are in the condition to stand a guard tonight?"

 

If Connington was asking, she might look worse than she had imagined.

 

"I can watch, but someone will have to help me if something happens."

 

"I'll arrange it, you'll guard Aegon."

 

“He isn't my responsibility." He recoiled.

 

“This place has a lot of secret passages and dangerous people. Rolly is injured. I need time to select reliable members for the Royal Guard.”

 

“What about Jon?”

 

“I will allow Arya Stark to stay with him and I'll provide her men from the Golden Company."

 

“I want Galbart Glover, Maege Mormont and the crannogmen with him. The Golden Company will help me with Aegon.”

 

“I don’t want northerners inside the Keep.” She frowned at that. Those men had played an important part in the battle.

 

“I don't trust anyone else.”

 

“I don’t want them here.”

 

“Then you can find someone else to guard the Silver Prince.” Connington glowered at her before accepting.

 

_It's not like I'm going to enjoy their presence either._

 

It would be difficult to be close to the northerners. She was aware they wouldn't like to see her. Their loyalty towards Jon was undeniable. He was Robb Stark’s heir, but she was a different matter. Northerners hated wildlings. They didn't want one of them near to their Lord, and the crannogmen weren't able to make them think differently.

 

She spent the next three days guarding Aegon during the night and receiving northerner's scowls when she visited Jon during the days. The scowls disappeared after the fifth day. She assumed Arya had told them something. Jon hadn't woken up yet.

 

The seventh day, the downhearted mood that had covered the castle since the battle, disappeared. The ships from the Vale and the Storm Lands had finally arrived. They had been waiting for them to witness the coronation of Daenerys Targaryen.

 

That morning, she found Tyrion exiting the Small Council Hall. They walked together to the dining room without saying a word. She realized she hadn't spoken properly to anyone since the castle fell.

 

"Has Connington appointed you as a member of the Small Council?" She was the first to speak.

 

"Why do you ask?"

 

"He doesn't allow everyone to enter those private reunions."

 

Connington had met in that room with Daenerys, Aegon and a man named Varys every day. The last addition to the group was Tyrion. Not even Arianne Martell had been invited to attend those meetings.

 

_Well, she's busy taking care of Obara Sand._

 

"Good point," he sipped his wine, "I think I'm going to become Master of Coin," he snorted. "As if appointing a Lannister as Master of Coin would magically fill the Royal Ark."

 

"Maybe the Queen is planning to redeem House Lannister in exchange for the gold."

 

"All the gold of Casterly Rock wouldn't be enough to redeem my family in the eyes of the Dragon Queen," he paused, "Do you think they are going to execute her?"

 

"I heard the prince was against it, but the Queen has the last word."

 

"He has such a good heart."

 

_Is he disappointed?_

 

Tyrion read her mind immediately.

 

"I'm not a monster, I mean, on the inside. It's just we have spent our whole lives hating each other. That can't be changed."

 

"What about the children?"

 

"I asked Connington to allow me to take care of my niece and nephew. The paranoid man said he would consider it."

 

"How strange." She had thought he would order to kill them right away.

 

"He might be getting old or tired or both." He regarded her with his mismatched eyes. "Speaking of which, you look terrible."

 

Cyara didn't need him to tell; she was tired. She had to stay up all night watching Aegon, and her wounds didn't allow her to rest during the day. She couldn't drink the milk of the poppy because she could fall asleep while guarding the Prince. And then was the fact that Jon hadn't woken up.

 

"Let's say you have genuine reasons to make fun of me."

 

She also was tired of keeping secrets and hiding. It was like the physical fatigue had dragged out her emotional weariness along with it. Besides, Tyrion already knew; he had realized before she did. And considering the looks Arya gave her every time she visited Jon, she wasn't so far from finding out.

 

"It was never my intention to make fun of you. Sometimes, my curiosity takes out the best part of me," he offered in an apologetic tone.

 

"Forget it. When will the coronation take place?"

 

"Tomorrow. The Queen wants to preside over the trials with a crown on her head. The relevant Lords that could come are here already. There's no reason to wait any longer."

 

"Sounds logic," she sighed, "I'm going back first, I need to rest before my guard."

 

That night wasn't as quiet as the previous ones. She heard Aegon moving and moaning in his sleep. She had to shake him a couple of times to wake him. He looked at her with frightened eyes; he was panting.

 

"You were having a nightmare, Your Grace."

 

"Yes, thank you." He had a hoarse voice.

 

"Do you want me to bring Haldon? He could give you something to help you sleep."

 

"No, I'm fine."

 

She nodded and returned to her place by the door. The prince, however, didn't return to sleep. He remained sitting on the bed staring at the darkness. After a long silence, he spoke.

 

"Did I have the right to sacrifice so many lives to get here?"

 

She hadn't expected that, so she couldn't answer.

 

"Thousands of men are dead because of me," he continued. "My friend, my cousin, and my brother could have died because of that Throne. And the people of this city couldn't hate me more for all the destruction I caused. Being a Targaryen gives me the right to do so?"

 

"No, you didn't have the right." She had never been a flatterer.

 

"I'm any better than Robert Baratheon." He laughed bitterly.

 

"Proof the people you are better than Robert Baratheon. You didn't have the right, but you can't retreat at this point either. Become worthy of what you have sacrificed.”

 

"That will take years." He had his head between his hands.

 

"That's why it's useless to make that question _right now_ ; you're torturing yourself."

 

"Then what am I supposed to do _right now_?"

 

"Make sure whatever you do every day takes you a step closer to your objective. In ten years, you can ask yourself the question again and decide whether you had the right or not."

 

"I think yours is the most honest answer I have received until now. Everyone seems wiser than me."

 

"Those words aren't mine," she retorted quickly. "I overheard them once from a man who was teaching his son how to become a good Lord, worthy of his people. It seemed accurate to repeat them now."

 

"I shall thank that man then."

 

"If I ever see him again, I'll send him your regards, Your Grace." She promised although she had zero chances of seeing Syronno Nervetti again.

 

_And if I were to see him, the last thing I would do would be speak to him._

 

On the morrow, the castle was a big fuss. The servants ran from one place to another to prepare their Lords and Ladies. They wanted to attend the coronation of Daenerys Stormborn with their best garments.

 

"Do I have to go?" Arya complained.

 

"Someone has to represent the Starks, little Lady," Maege Mormont said almost tenderly.

 

"Sansa will be there."

 

"Your sister is still married to the imp. The northerners won't line up behind her."

 

"Just go. I'll let you know if something changes."

 

Connington had ordered her to stay with Jon while the northerners attended the coronation.

 

"Fine," she scowled and left with Lady Mormont.

 

She sat beside the bed. The fever had relented, and his breath was more even. Still no matter how many times Arya told her he would recover, she hadn't been able to dismiss her worry. As she observed him, she wondered when the last time she worried so much about someone else was.

 

 _Please, wake up. Please, wake up._ She repeated over and over again.

 

If the gods existed, they have decided to be merciful this time. Jon opened his eyes and scanned the place. She couldn't restrain a nervous smile.

 

"Where are we?" He asked with a croaky voice.

 

"In the Red Keep."

 

"Did you find Arya?"

 

"Aegon did. She has been here day and night, but she had to attend the coronation." He nodded.

 

"I'm thirsty."

 

She helped him to sit up and drink the water.

 

"You took your time to return," was all she managed to say.

 

"The gods must be punishing me." He looked away.

 

It was impressive how much blame his soul carried.

 

"Why would they want to punish you?"

 

"Haven't they told you? I accepted the rule over Winterfell."

 

"I heard something about that. So?"

 

"I will marry Arianne Martell or someone else and have children."

 

She kept silent; that had hurt more than she would like to admit. 

 

"I'll do what I vowed I would never do."

 

_What am I supposed to tell him? I'm not even capable to deal with my demons._

 

"It could be worse."

 

He turned to see her.

 

"How can it be worse?"

 

"You could be wearing a crown."

 

They laughed at that.

 

"At least I haven't hit the bottom yet."

 

"No one but you is judging your actions."

 

"And Arya will be happy, won't she?"

 

"She will. Do you want me to send someone to fetch her?"

 

"No, I need some time to think."

 

"I'll be outside."

 

Jon would be fine, but she wasn't feeling better.

 

 _'It hurts, doesn't it, child? To have a heart. Serve me and you won't suffer because of your heart again.'_ Brynden Rivers had told her a long time ago.

 

 _It didn't work._ She was suffering already for something she couldn't have.

 

 

 

TYRION

 

He had fled King's Landing thinking he would never see it again. However, the gods enjoyed proving humans wrong. He was once more at the entrance of the Great Sept ready to receive the newest Ruler of the Kingdom, Daenerys Targaryen.

 

Eighteen years, thousands of deaths, the whispers of a spider and the funding of a fat cheesemonger was all the Targaryen needed to recover the most uncomfortable chair in the Seven Kingdoms. They had regained what was theirs along with the hate of the inhabitants of the city.

 

 _If I were in their position, I would feel the same way._ The Lords played their mortal Game over and over again, and the small folk paid the consequences. Tyrion was one of those Lords, but that didn't mean he was able to ignore that fact. _The dragons will have to knock their asses out to gain the trust of this people._

 

The doors opened, and the Lords and Ladies rushed in to find the best place. They were eager to show their commitment to the dragons.

 

He entered last and observed the attendants. People from Dorne, the North, the Vale and the Storm Lands were there. It was expected because they had fought the battles that achieved victory for the Targaryens. He also saw the Tyrells, too close to the first row for his liking.

 

 _I have more sense of decency than Mace Tyrell._ He hadn't hesitated to change sides when the battle started to turn against him. Tyrion knew he was plotting already to spread golden petals in Aegon's bed. _Maybe he will be more discreet this time and go after the Ice Dragon._

 

Jon had obtained a remarkable reputation after the battle. Tyrion had heard the same fantastic story from different men. The Lords were already throwing marriage offers to Connington's feet for both princes. The identity of the next Queen was still a mystery, but the deal with Dorne was almost closed. He thought of Cyara.

 

 _Good grief, I shouldn't have told her anything,_ he felt some guilt. _How was I supposed to know Jon would obey Connington and accept a marriage? Or that the Northerners would appear and name him Lord of Winterfell?_

 

He glanced at the Tyrells again and contained his fury. According to Sansa, they had been behind Joffrey's murder. Tyrion agreed with the fact that his vicious nephew was a problem that needed to be attended, but he wouldn't forget they had allowed him to charge with all the blame.

 

_The Fat Flower can be sure of something. I will do everything in my hands to prevent Margaery from wearing a crown._

 

The new High Septon entered. At the Vale, he had warned Connington about the High Sparrow and the instauration of the Faith Militant. They had high possibilities of rejecting the dragons because of the incest and the menace that the three beasts represented to them. Connington told him they would deal with him once they had taken the city. And they had dealt with the man.

 

_Well, more like they allowed Cersei to deal with him._

 

Right after the conquest of the city, a rare disease spread among the higher ranks of the Faith. It had taken the lives of the High Sparrow, his most trusted men, and some minor servants. Tyrion could have bought the story if he hadn't been aware that Tyene Sand had infiltrated into the organization. The Faith wouldn't represent a menace anymore.

 

The New Septon recited the pertinent prayers and called Daenerys Targaryen forward. The Dragon Queen had never looked more impressive. She was wearing an elegant red gown of myrish lace with long sleeves and, wore her hair in the Dothraki fashion. She had added another bell to the braid.

 

 _Aegon the Conqueror with tits,_ he thought as the High Septon placed the crown over her beautiful Silvery Hair. The crown was of dark steel adorned with rubies, like the one the first Aegon wore. They had chosen well.

 

"Bow before Daenerys Targaryen, first of her name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." The attendants obeyed and started to cheer for the new Queen.

 

"Long live the Queen!"

 

"Long live Daenerys Stormborn!"

 

"Long live the Mother of Dragons!"

 

The Queen moved forward to embrace her nephew. Aegon was wearing a black doublet with the three-headed dragon embroidered on it. Together, red and black, they represented the rebirth of House Targaryen.

 

 _They aren't the only Targaryens._ Jon would have to play his part as well. Although, he doubted Jon would have joined the embrace.

 

The rest of the Lords and Ladies crowded around to get the opportunity to congratulate the dragons. The way Margaery Tyrell lingered beside the Silver Prince didn't go unnoticed for Tyrion. A single glance at Sansa's expression told him she had noticed as well. He observed the rest of the Lords and Ladies, their attitude and expression.

 

 _If Daenerys and Aegon think they have won, they're more naïve than I had originally thought._ The real confrontation was about to start. _New pieces, new players, but the Game is always the same._ Only time, would tell who the real victor was.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the title of the chapter was more scandalous than it had to be, but I liked how it sounded. Plus, I thought it matched the inner turmoil of the characters.
> 
> Do you want me to keep spoiling the title of the next chapter? Maybe it isn't good for either of us.
> 
> For the time being, next chapter: "Justice"


	18. Justice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I finish a chapter I promise myself the next will be shorter and it ends up happening the other way around. I think I tried to cover too much on this one, but I didn't want to exclude any of the points I had planned for the chapter.
> 
> joeysky you remind me of my mom when she orders me to clean my filthy room.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

 

ARYA

 

She had forgotten how much she hated the stinky city. She had forgotten how annoying it was to wear a stupid dress. She had forgotten how tedious it was to be at King's Landing court. She had forgotten so much. But she had not forgotten the falseness of the Lords and Ladies.

 

She looked how Sansa commented something and then giggled with one of the minor Tyrell girls. The Queen had assigned them adjacent seats. The table was full with young members of Great Houses, and far enough from the northerners for her to get bored.

 

 _My sister has become one of them._ She thought with some repugnance. _Maybe she has always been one of them._ Sansa fitted the capital in a way Arya would never do. _I didn't even fit at Winterfell._

 

Arya looked at her again; she couldn't feel more confused about her sister.

 

When Baelish told them about Sansa's actions, hot-tempered as she was, Arya had been enraged with Sansa. Arya had been sure she hated her sister, but soon, her hate and anger had turned into sorrow and deception. Once she was away from Sansa, she had tried to think about the matter objectively.

 

Sansa had always been an idiotic, dreamy girl. It was obvious that Joffrey and Cersei Lannister had dazzled her the moment they set feet at Winterfell. They had manipulated her and dragged her into their game. It must have been that way.

 

No, that was what Arya wanted. Sansa being consciously responsible for their father's death was unbearable. She had forced herself to believe it hadn't been that way. But that didn't mean she accepted the person Sansa had become.

 

 _Father wouldn't have liked her to be a liar or manipulative like Cersei Lannister._ Arya had received training to see through lies. She could be sure, every giggle and word she told to those girls were false; even if she ignored the motives of the lies. _Father would have been very sad... for both of us._

 

The announcement of the dragons entering the Throne Room distracted her from her inner chaos. All the attendants stood up and cheered as the doors of the Hall opened. The Dragon Queen entered holding arms with the Silver Prince. They both greeted and smiled to the presents. Every girl in the room swooned when the Crown Prince passed in front of her. Arya could only roll her eyes at the scene.

 

 _It looks like Sansa learnt the lesson after all._ Arya thought when she noticed Sansa wasn't one of the squeaking girls.

 

The Dragons took their seat at the red and black decorated dais. The Dragon Queen sat right in the center of the table with the Silver Prince and the Grumpy Hand to her right. Princess Arianne Martell was sat to her left but separated from the Queen by an empty seat.

 

 _At least they recognize there's someone important missing there._ Assessing all the strain that existed between the Queen and Jon, Arya had thought they would diminish importance to his absence. _She can't do that anymore, not after the battle._ Jon had played a crucial part taking the city.

 

The servants filled the cups with wine, and the Queen rose to lead the toast.

 

"Lords and Ladies from Westeros, these past years had been full of wars and misfortune. People unworthy of the Realm had damaged our home almost irreparably. Please grant me and my nephews your trust and support so that we can restore the Seven Kingdoms to their past glory together."

 

"THE DRAGON QUEEN!"

 

"DAENERYS TARGARYEN!"

 

The multitude's roar reverberated in the Throne Room. Arya wondered how long it would take for the echoed name to change again. She had the certainty Robert Baratheon's name had sounded as imposing as the Queen's did at that moment.

 

The Dragon Queen asked for silence so that she could continue speaking.

 

"I wouldn't be here if not for my dear nephews, that's why I want to dedicate this toast to them. For Aegon and Jon Targaryen." She raised her cup.

 

"For Aegon and Jon Targaryen!" The crowd repeated as they raised their cups as well.

 

 _Jon is not a Targaryen._ Arya scowled. She knew Jon was the son of Prince Rhaegar, but she didn't like the sound of _Jon Targaryen_. It didn't sound like they were speaking of her brother.

 

Once the toast ended, the feast started. It was a small thing compared to the feasts that had taken place when the King went to Winterfell or the one held after the tourney of the Hand, but it was more of a symbolic feast. Arya had heard better feasts would take place after the trials and for the Silver Prince's wedding.

 

 _And I had thought girls had it difficult when it came to marriage._ Arya nearly felt sorry for Aegon Targaryen; the Ladies would follow him like dogs after a piece of meat. _Will they do the same with Jon?_ She didn't enjoy the idea of a bunch of idiots bothering him.

 

Arya ate the cabbage pottage, the roast bream and darioles with enthusiasm. The situation in King's Landing was precarious, so it was a welcomed change from the porridge and tasteless stew she had eaten every day in the Keep. The rest of the attendants looked like they shared her opinion.

 

She had enjoyed the dinner but once the ball started, her scowl returned. A dozen of boys, whose name she didn't know, asked her to dance with them. Her assassin stare was enough to dissuade them, but it was still annoying.

 

"Shouldn't they be inviting you instead?" She asked Sansa without thinking. Sansa turned to regard her with widened eyes; she was surprised that Arya was speaking to her. Sansa hesitated before answering.

 

"Unlike you, I'm not marriage material anymore." She whispered.

 

"I will never be marriage material."

 

She would die before becoming the property of some pompous Lord. Besides, she doubted there was something in her that would genuinely attract any of them. She only had to look at the way they stared at Sansa before inviting her.

 

Sansa made sure the Tyrell girls were distracted before whispering to her again.

 

"Manners do not matter when there's a political advantage. Jon is a prince now, and it's no secret how much he treasures you. The Lord that gets to marry you would gain his favor."

 

"Repugnant," was all she could retort.

 

"Well, that's how it works."

 

Harrold Arryn appeared and asked Sansa to dance with him. Sansa gave him her beautiful smile and took his hand. Arya observed how she laughed as Harry directed her gracefully through the dancing floor. They looked good together, and Sansa looked like the girl she had been.

 

 _If the lie makes her happy, so be it._ Arya was in no position to judge whatever Sansa decided to do with her life.

 

Just like she had expected, she got bored almost instantly. There was no one she could talk with, and there was no way she would dance with some young Lord. She limited to observe the people around her trying to find someone more miserable than her. Surprisingly enough, she did.

 

Trystane Martell was sitting across from her, in front of the Tyrell girls. He was not only bored, he looked even depressed. The way the Queen had arranged the seats resulted in an isolated dornish prince surrounded by little roses. He must have felt her stare because he lifted his gaze to meet hers. Arya rose her cup to him to show him she understood his feelings. The prince shrugged lightly in response. Then both of them returned to their respective misery.

 

She was stabbing a loaf when she heard them. The Tyrell girls were blabbering something about Sansa.

 

"Ssh! Margaery told us to get along with her."

 

"She's not here right now, Megga."

 

"Alla is right, Megga. Besides, we are not telling lies; Sansa is a whore."

 

"She doesn't look like a whore to me."

 

"She is married to the Lannister dwarf but flirts with Harrold Arryn."

 

"Sounds like something a whore would do."

 

Arya hit the table with her fist strongly enough for the little roses to notice. She directed them a killing stare as she closed her fingers around the knife. The Tyrell girls recoiled immediately. They kept quiet until they found a new target for their blabbering.

 

"Do you think they are going to behead Myrcella Baratheon?"

 

"Why not? She's an enemy of the dragons."

 

"But she's a princess."

 

"She was a princess. The Lannisters don't have power anymore."

 

"Elinor is right. She's not even beautiful. Have you seen the nauseating scar she has in the face?"

 

"Uhuh, they say she even lost an ear."

 

 _Shut up, shut up, shut up._ It was Myrcella Baratheon they were talking about, but Arya couldn't stand their blabbering. She could already picture them talking about her father after he was beheaded. She could imagine them commenting the Red Wedding as if it was the color of her dresses.

 

She threw the knife to the table in front of the little roses. The three of them screamed in unison and grew quiet almost immediately.

 

"What do you think you're doing, savage?"

 

"Sorry, it slipped from my hand when I hear the stupidities you were talking about." She shrugged.

 

"My cousin, Margaery, will hear about this."

 

"Is that supposed to be a threat? I have no reasons to fear Margaery Tyrell."

 

"She's going to be Queen and she will behead you if we ask her."

 

"Elinor, we're not supposed to tell anyone."

 

 _And I'm a Faceless Assassin, idiot._ For someone who enjoyed gossip, they were considerably ignorant.

 

"Daenerys Targaryen is the Queen. I don't think she would like to hear your cousin, Margaery, is already planning to overthrow her."

 

"Margaery will become Queen when she marries the Silver Prince, you ignorant savage."

 

 _How retarded can they be?_ She was about to retort something offensive, but they had started to drag other's attention. _Time to get out of here._ She didn't want trouble with the Dragon Queen.

 

"You know, if I were to become the future Queen of Westeros, I wouldn't surround myself with witless girls whose only entertainment is to talk about others. That would create me an awful image."

 

The girl she had been arguing with got red because of the anger. Arya stood up and left the Throne Room.

 

She directed towards Maegor's Holdfast to see if Jon had finally woken up. She was halfway through the main yard when she heard the steps behind her.

 

"Who are you and what do you want?" She spat out without looking back.

 

"Lady Arya, wait, please." She didn't know the voice, so she turned to find Trystane Martell trying to catch up with her.

_What does he want?_

 

"How may I help you, Prince Trystane?" She was furious, but insulting the dornish prince could cause her problems. Besides, he was the cousin of the Sand Snakes, and Arya liked the Sand Snakes.

 

"I came to thank you, Lady Arya."

 

"Thank me for what?"

 

"For defending Myrcella of those girls," he looked away, "you did something I wasn't brave enough to do, Lady Arya."

 

 _I wasn't defending her._ She wondered why it was so important for the dornish prince. It took her an instant to remember. _Myrcella was betrothed to him._

 

"They didn't have the right to speak ill of someone who wasn't there to defend from the offenses." That was the closest to the truth.

 

"I thought you would hate Myrcella because of the things her brother did to your family. You're a kind person, Lady Arya."

 

 _Yeah, so kind that I might have killed her if the Silver Prince had not stopped me._ She was only after Cersei Lannister, but her wrath tended to blind her, even if she tried to deny it.

 

"She had nothing to do with that. I never spoke to her that much, but she seemed like a gentle person," she said as she tried to remember any interaction she had had with her.

 

 _Gentler than I will ever be._ Myrcella Baratheon wasn't the type of girl Arya would make friends with, but she had never treated her badly. _And considering the mother she has, that makes her quite admirable._

 

"She is, my Lady." The melancholic expression returned to the prince's face, and she understood why he had looked so depressed during the feast.

 

_He cherishes her, but there's no way he will be allowed to marry her._

 

"Was your betrothal canceled?" Arya had always lacked tact.

 

"They won't even allow me to visit her. Even if we are not going to marry, she's my friend."

 

"I'm sorry," was the only answer she found.

 

"Thank you, Lady Arya."

 

"Stop it with the Lady thing, I don't like it," she said more aggressively than she had intended. It had started to bother her to be called Lady in every sentence.

 

"It wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable, La..." Even under the dim light of the torches, Arya saw he had blushed lightly.

 

 _Idiot._ It wasn't that important either.

 

"Arya is enough. Now, if you excuse me, Prince Trystane, I have to see how my brother is doing."

 

"Of course, send him my regards, please."

 

"Thank you, Prince Trystane."

 

"Trystane is enough."

 

Arya nodded and continued her way.

 

"I thought the feast would last longer," Cyara greeted her.

 

"It's still going on. I got in trouble with some little roses, nothing serious, though," she shrugged. "What are you wearing?"

 

The mismatched garment Cyara had been wearing since they met had been replaced. She was wearing breeches and a tunic of black wool and high boots of the same color. The tunic had embroidered a red three-headed dragon and a white dire wolf on the chest.

 

"It was Connington's doing. He said I had to look like a respectable guard and not a wildling."

 

"You look weird."

 

"I think you're in no position to say that," she retorted arching a brow.

 

"At least what you're wearing suits you." She shook the skirts of the blue dress she was wearing.

 

"I think it favors you, Lady Arya." Cyara said with a smirk on her face.

 

Arya rolled her eyes.

 

"Whatever, How is Jon?"

 

 _If she's mocking me, that must mean he finally woke up._ Cyara had been, if possible, more worried than Arya.

 

"He woke up around midday but returned to sleep shortly after. I don't think he would get angry if you wake him now."

 

"I'll see."

 

She entered and lighted up the lamp on the night table. She hesitated before shaking him. Arya wanted to let him rest, but after being surrounded by liars all day, she felt the need to speak with Jon.

 

"Arya," he said blinking. "Is the feast over?" She sat on the bed.

 

"No, I got bored." That made him smile.

 

"So you decided to bother my sleep instead."

 

"I came to visit you, stupid." She punched his arm lightly and he laughed.

 

"How dare you attack a wounded person? You monster."

 

Arya froze. It had been a joke, but she had been scared of being called that way by Jon since they met again. She had done her best to hide it from him, but her desire for revenge overpowered her more often than not. The incident with the Lannister and Royal guard was a perfect example.

_The Silver Prince will tell him as soon as he gets to speak with Jon. What will he think of me then? Will he reject me after that?_

 

"Arya? Are you feeling well?"

 

Jon had reached for her hand, and she snatched it away instinctively. He looked taken aback.

 

"You scared me, stupid."

 

"You were too concentrated in whatever you were thinking."

 

"I got into a fight with some Tyrell girls. I was thinking that might bring you trouble." The lie slipped naturally from her mouth.

 

"What was it about?"

 

"They were speaking ill of Sansa."

 

Jon widened his eyes and grinned like an idiot.

 

"Arya..."

 

"Shut up, I'm still mad at her." She would never be able to forgive what Sansa had done, but that didn’t mean she would allow others to speak that way about her.

 

"Fine, don't worry about the fight. I'll take care of it," he hesitated before continuing, "I think you might have heard about it already, but I wanted to tell you personally." He fidgeted with the blanket nervously. "Robb appointed me as his heir. I'll be named Lord of Winterfell."

 

"Does... does that mean you won't return to the Night's Watch?" She had heard rumors, but she hadn't dared to believe them until she heard it from him.

 

"I won't."

 

"You promise?" She had forgotten her recent apprehension.

 

"I promise."

 

That was all she needed to hear. Arya threw her arms around his neck and held him as tight as she could. Jon held her with his healthy arm.

 

"There's something else."

 

"What?" She separated from him.

 

"I don't know the details, but Lady Mage told me Rickon is in the North, alive."

 

"Really?" Perhaps, the gods weren’t that cruel after all.

 

"He's at White Harbor."

 

"When are we leaving?" She was suddenly feeling excited.

 

"I'm not sure. There are some issues I have to solve here first."

 

"Connington wants you to marry." Jon nodded. "Just don't let him choose someone stupid."

 

There was no use trying to convince Jon out of it. He would marry whoever Connington chose because that was what he was meant to do.

 

"I don't have many options, but I don't think Arianne Martell is stupid."

 

"The dornish princess? I don't think that either, but she's going to freeze at Winterfell." Arianne Martell was way better than any other pretentious Lady.

 

"Maybe, but that has not been decided yet. You'll have to keep the secret."

 

"I will."

 

Jon grew quiet for a while.

 

"Arya, do you agree with me taking Winterfell? Don't you think it should be Sansa, or Rickon, or you?"

 

"Are you stupid? Sansa has made clear that she doesn't want to return to Winterfell; Rickon is too young, and I... for real? I would cause more harm than benefit." He lowered his gaze.

 

"I feel like I'm taking something that doesn't belong to me."

 

"You're not because Robb wanted it to be this way, didn't he?"

 

"Lady Catelyn wouldn't have liked it." The mere mention of her mother’s name made her sad.

 

"My mother didn't have the right to treat you the way she did," she paused. Jon should have never ended at the Wall in the first place. "I wish she could know you weren't a bastard." Relief was written all over his face.

 

"Thank you, little sister." He mussed her hair and they smiled to each other.

 

"You were right."

 

"About what?"

 

"You were right when you told me different roads sometimes lead to the same castle."

 

"I just wish it hadn't been that difficult for us to get here."

 

"Me too." They had lost too much.

 

"At least we'll get justice for them."

 

"We will."

 

 _But if the dragon's justice doesn't seem enough for me, I'll have to take it myself. Even if that turns me into a monster in your eyes._ She had been pleased to hear Jon's news, yet Arya couldn’t find peace. She had the certainty that she would only achieve it after she had finished her list.

 

 

 

TYRION

 

"It's decided then. The trials will start first thing in the morning, tomorrow. Let the Lords know, so they can prepare themselves, Varys."

 

"As the Lord Hand wishes," the eunuch bowed and rubbed his hands before exiting the Hall.

 

"What about the selection of the Small Council and the King's guard?" The Crown Prince asked.

 

"I want to observe the reactions of the Lords and Ladies during the trials before deciding, dear nephew."

 

It had been a fortnight since they took King's Landing, but they hadn't been able to fill the remaining positions of either of those organizations. Connington would be Hand of the Queen; Tyrion, Master of Coin; Varys, Master of Whispers; as Lord Commander of the Queen's Guard, Ser Barristan would be a member as well, and the Citadel would send a new Grand Maester. That left empty the positions of Master of Laws and Master of Ships, but no one seemed fitting to take those seats.

 

 _Jon would do an excellent Master of Laws._ His impassive nature and unwavering Stark honor were a perfect combination for the post. The problem was that he had had to repair the mess the North had become. Not to mention the Dragon Queen seemed to be warier of him than before. _I thought they had moved past that point._ Only Daenerys Targaryen understood her motives.

 

The subject of the Queen's Guard was even worse. Entrusting political power was a matter of serious consideration, but entrusting the life of the Supreme Ruler of the Realm was even more problematic. Ability with the sword wasn't enough; the Seven Knights had to be completely worthy of trust. Otherwise, they could end up with another Kingslayer in their hands.

 

They had five positions and zero reliable options. They had considered Loras Tyrell, Daemon Sand, and a bunch of members from the Golden Company. Still, they had not reached a concrete resolution.

 

_I guess this shortage of options was the reason Robert Baratheon ended with the likes of Boros Blount and Meryn Trant in his King's Guard. That, and my sweet sister's whispers, no doubt._

 

"I think we have had enough for today, gentlemen," the Queen had reached her daily limit for politics. She left with Ser Barristan right behind her.

 

"If there's nothing left to discuss, I'll go to see Jon." Aegon had been waiting all morning to see his brother.

 

"Fine, when you get there, tell the girl I want to see her as soon as possible."

 

Aegon rushed out of the Hall, and Tyrion was about to do the same. He wanted to assault the kitchens to see if he could get some leftovers from the feast. The food served every day was hogwash. He couldn't complain because he knew the city might be starving, but a man, even one of his size, had limits.

 

"I need you to stay, Lannister." He twisted his mouth at that.

 

 _I'm a fucking masochist._ If he had been a little smarter, he would have rejected the offer to be part of the new Small Council. It was a nuisance to meet every day to discuss endless issues concerning the Realm. _What can I say? I love to play the Game._ He just expected he wouldn't have to risk his life in it this time. _Aegon is not Joffrey; that's a god start._ He sighed.

 

"What can my humble, undersized, person do for the Hand of the Queen?"

 

"I need to ask you something regarding the betrothals."

 

"Me... Why does it have to be me?" Tyrion had almost choked. Connington had always been wary of him. To think he wanted to know his opinion regarding the fate of the precious princes was incredible.

 

"I don't trust you completely, but you would have betrayed us already if you wanted. Plus, I might need your help to keep Daenerys under control."

 

"How is that related to the betrothal?"

 

"You know these persons better than any of us. I want to know your opinion, based on your experience at court."

 

 _Interesting._ Tyrion was considering when someone knocked at the door. Cyara entered with her new garment. _Is Connington trying to tame her? How useless; she's wildling in name only._

 

"You arrive early, girl."

 

"The prince said it was urgent. Do you want me to return later?"

 

"No, take a seat. I’ll speak with you right after I’m finished with him." She obeyed.

 

"Which are your options?" Tyrion picked up the track.

 

"Arianne Martell for Jon," the man scowled, "it was Prince Doran himself who suggested it, but Jon emphasized he wanted to get the Princess's approval as well. That gallant brat insists in doing the things the difficult way."

 

 _The Stark way,_ Tyrion corrected in his mind.

 

"What about his opinion?" He gave Cyara a side look, but her expression had not changed a single bit. If anything, she was bored.

 

"He says the only thing that matters is the Princess’s opinion."

 

 _How considerate._ It was part of his essence.

 

"What's the matter then?"

 

"Do you think the Princess will accept?"

 

Tyrion considered it for a moment.

 

"She will. The dornish always share the same objective. I doubt Doran Martell had suggested it without his daughter's consent."

 

"That makes me wary of their reasons. They doubted Aegon's origin in the beginning, and they hate Daenerys." Tyrion shook his head. The dragon's alliances were more fragile than he had perceived.

 

 _A disastrous way to enter the Game._ They should be playing as one.

 

"If anything, it's a declaration against Daenerys. If there were to be a second Dance of the Dragons, an alliance between the North and Dorne would turn the tides in Aegon's favor."

 

 _To think that a few months ago he was a fugitive from the Night's Watch._ In his current situation, a marriage with Jon meant the booking of an alliance with three Realms. It was more than improbable, but if Daenerys suddenly decided she wanted to marry her youngest nephew, she would be in perfect position to depose Aegon's claim. _Do they realize how lucky they are that Jon was raised by Eddard Stark?_ If he were a different kind of man, he would take the Iron Throne for himself. _That must be what makes Daenerys wary of him._

 

"It's settled then."

 

"What about the Crown Prince?"

 

"I've been thinking of Margaery Tyrell."

 

"Are you insane?!" Cyara had woken up from her stupor. Tyrion and Connington were staring at her astonished. "I apologize for the interruption," she lowered her head immediately.

 

Tyrion cleared his throat.

 

"I completely agree with our dear Maiden. What in the Seven Hells made you consider Margaery Tyrell?"

 

"The Reach has the wealthy and power we need to restore the Realm."

 

"They have changed sides at least three times until now. Margaery has lost two kingly husbands under strange circumstances. I don't think their gold is worthy of sacrificing Aegon. Not to mention she's married to my nephew."

 

Tyrion wanted to tell him about Joffrey, but he had to keep it secret until the trial.

 

"The marriage wasn't consummated. The questionable behavior of her House is precisely which makes an alliance with them necessary."

 

_This world is awfully unfair._

 

"You would destroy my House gladly, but you plan to reward the Fat Flower. What kind of judgment are the dragons planning to deliver?"

 

_Perhaps I should vouch for the Ice Dragon._

“Careful, dwarf.” Connington warned.

 

“I highly suggest you to send them away from court.”

 

"Let's say we send them home, and Margaery and Tommen remain married. What would stop them from Rebelling?"

 

"Fire and Blood."

 

"Really? Against your nephew?"

 

"The marriage can be dissolved."

 

"This Realm won't stand another war. The people need to know Aegon won't bring them sorrow the way the Usurper did. And using the dragons to consolidate power would only bring him hate."

 

 _Seems like Jon has gained some influence over Connington. What a waste of good resources._ The most amazing about it was that Jon had done it unconsciously.

 

"If the problem is the power of Highgarden, why don't you just strip it away from them? Name Leyton Hightower Lord Paramount of the Reach and hand him everything that belongs to the Tyrells. Baelor Hightower has a maiden daughter around Aegon's age. If you promote the Hightower Household, the girl would be an excellent option for Aegon." By the time Cyara ended, Connington was gaping like an idiot.

 

"I wasn't aware wildlings knew about politics. Who have you been talking with, girl?" Cyara realized her mistake too late.

 

"No one, it was an opinion based on my instincts." She gave Tyrion a nervous stare.

 

 _And those instincts happen to be named Syronno Nervetti._ It had been a poor excuse, but Connington was too busy being wary to notice.

 

"How do you know about lineage and heraldry from the Seven Kingdoms?"

 

"Guarding Aegon is boring. I found a book about the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms."

 

"You can read?"

 

_Good grief. What a pitiful liar._

 

"I taught her when we were at Storm's End." Tyrion settled the matter aside. "It could work. Darlessa Hightower wouldn't be the first Lady from her House to become a Targaryen Queen."

 

"That course of action could easily result in a war and Mace Tyrell still has considerable military strength.”

 

 _So this is what it is about, he wants Aegon to increase his military power in case Daenerys decides she wants to stay on the Throne. They don’t understand how mistaken they are._ Daenerys was being wary of Jon and Connington of Daenerys when they should be paying attention to the roses and the Storm Lands. Tyrion had the feeling there was something weird about the Storm Lords, but he hadn't been able to grasp what it was.

 

“Their army doesn’t seem like a problem to me.” They could outnumber them easily.

 

“Margaery is well liked among the small folk. If Aegon marries her, she could improve his image with the inhabitants of the city." Connington delivered his final argument.

 

 _If you had already decided, why did you waste my time? Was he testing me?_  Tyrion felt maddened. The idea of the Fat Flower getting what he wanted made him furious. As expected, his anger loosened his tongue.

 

"You know what I would do in your place? I would marry the prince to her," he pointed Cyara, "and I would forget about the rest of the treacherous Ladies and their ulterior expectations. Aegon would be happy and for once we would have a Queen with some brains in her head, who won’t be plotting to get the power for herself."

 

"Which kind of nonsense are you blabbering dwarf?! How can you even suggest to marry Aegon to a filthy wildling?!"

 

"That filthy wildling played an important part in Aegon's war."

 

Tyrion noticed Cyara’s expression; she looked as if someone had slapped her. Connington realized too and calmed down.

 

"I have never denied it," Connington turned to her, "no offense girl, but you are a lifetime away of being what a Queen needs to be. However, that doesn't mean I don't recognize what you're doing. In fact, the reason I called you here is related to that."

 

"Tell me what it is already so that you can continue your debate," her tone was strained.

 

"I've been considering to give you a white cloak."

 

_What is he planning?_

 

"I'm no knight, not even a man. What kind of bad joke is this?" She had narrowed her eyes.

 

"It's no joke. The only thing that matters is Aegon's safety, and you have been quite successful in that aspect." Cyara had fallen silent.

 

_Is she considering it? There's unquestionably something wrong in this._

 

"Does the Queen know about your offer?"

 

"I consulted the matter with Ser Barristan and he told me he thought you more worthy than many real knights. If you accept, he could help us to convince the Queen."

 

"I'll think about it." She said in a flat tone.

_I have to talk her out of this._ Cyara was one step away from becoming a piece in the struggle between Connington and Daenerys.

 

"I'll wait for the answer. You can leave," Connington regarded him, "I've heard your arguments, and I respect your opinion. But I still think Margaery Tyrell will be the most favorable choice for Aegon. She has the wealth, status, and the education to be Queen."

 

 _Damn fool._ Tyrion had no chance of making the man change his mind.

 

"I'm sure Jon Arryn thought the same about my sweet sister. You should ask Robert Baratheon how that ended." Connington limited to glower at him.

 

He caught up with Cyara near Maegor's Holdfast.

 

"What do you want?" It was the first time he had seen her truly angry.

 

"I came to make sure you won't seriously consider Connington's offer."

 

"Why not? Sounds promising, it's more than I should dare to aspire for."

 

"He shouldn't have expressed that way about you."

 

"I don't care about it; that's what I'm supposed to be."

 

"It doesn't look like you don't care."

 

"I'm not annoyed about that. It's just," she breathed, "I've been losing my self-control. I'm starting to act more like..."

 

"Yourself," he completed. That explained her behavior in front Connington. "Tell them already, you could even get some influence on the matters of the Realm." She scoffed.

 

"Really? I have no army, wealth or even a name for my opinion to be considered important."

 

"You have a name."

 

"I _had_ one."

 

"As you wish." He couldn't understand her reluctance. "Just, please don't consider that offer."

 

"What's wrong about it?"

 

"Accept and you'll become a piece in Connington's Game against Daenerys. I doubt that's how you want to end."

 

"I'll take your advice seriously."

 

Tyrion could only hope she would make the right decision.

 

He had lost the mood to eat, so he walked to the godswood. He had an appointment to attend.

 

Sansa was dressing like a maid and had covered her hair with the hood of the cloak.

 

"Are you sure no one will hear us here?"

 

"Not even the spiders."

 

"Our issue against the Tyrells will get nowhere." He got straight to the point.

 

"Of course not. Margaery is an announcement away from marrying for the fourth time."

 

"I thought it was a secret." She smiled charmingly at him.

 

"There are no secrets between close friends."

 

"Friends? I thought Baelish would have warned them about you already."

 

The Queen had given way too much freedom to that leech. He must have told the Tyrells that they were aware of their participation in Joffrey's murder.

 

"He can't tell them I know. That would mean he betrayed their confidence, and right now he can't afford to lose the Tyrell support. That's the last he got."

 

"So, is he going to take all the blame?" It wasn't like Baelish to do so.

 

"No, he's going to blame you."

 

"Again?" She nodded. "What about you?"

 

"I got Margaery's protection. Plus, he will take his time to deal with me. I know too much about him."

 

_This world is rubbish._

 

"So it's my argument against Baelish's."

 

"It's not. He will ask for a trial by combat."

 

_Not again._

 

"You must be happy since you'll be ready to marry Harry after my trial."

 

"You think too low of me," she made a lovely pout. "I'll provide you with an excellent champion."

 

_Now that was unexpected._

 

"Does this mean we will finally get rid of Baelish?"

 

"No, the Queen loves the songs the mockingbird sings to her. He’s the only one that supports her notion that Jon wants the Throne."

 

_So it was Baelish’s doing._

 

"I thought Daenerys was smarter than that."

 

"Oh, she is. But Petyr is even smarter. He sings his songs hidden behind a bush of roses."

 

_And Daenerys can't ignore the roses or she will lose them to Connington._

 

"How will the Queen justify the fact that she is forgiving a Kingslayer?"

 

"They will play the _Joffrey was a menace to the Realm_ card. I think we should support it."

 

"What?! I won't do that."

 

If he had to swear Joffrey was the incarnation of kindness to get rid of Baelish, he wouldn't hesitate to do so.

 

"What a shame. That resolution could have established the necessary precedents to get the pardon for another Kingslayer."

 

They had not ended the best way, but he couldn't allow his brother to get sentenced to death. _If Jaime can convince them of Aerys's madness..._ It was a bet, yet better than nothing.

 

"Why would you want to help Jaime?" Her big blue eyes were shining.

 

"An indebted lion is better than a dead one."

 

_A Lannister always pays his debts._

 

"Your siblings won't like you defending Jaime."

 

"They don't have to know it was my idea."

 

Tyrion sighed. He didn't like the idea of lying to the only honest person he knew, but Jaime was his kin.

 

"How am I supposed to pay for the champion?" She cocked her head as if she was meditating it.

 

"I want to know her last name."

 

"You were listening?"

 

"You two weren't very discreet." She shrugged.

 

"What kind of benefit would it bring you to know about her?"

 

"Satisfy my curiosity. Listen, if my good brother is forgiven, I will think of a serious payment."

 

_It's not like Sansa would get something out of it._

"Nervetti," he muttered. Disappointment was evident in her face.

 

"That doesn't tell me anything."

 

"Told you it was useless."

 

"What a waste of a good opportunity," she commented as she observed her nails. "I think we're done here... It's not that I don't enjoy your company, but I would like to receive my next appointment in private."

 

_She has not lost a single second._

 

"Good luck with that," he started to waddle to the exit, but he remembered something. "Are we going to let the roses and Baelish get away unpunished?"

 

"Ah, a man of little faith. Don't worry; I'll pull up the roses personally. And Baelish... well, I'll let my next visitor handle him."

 

"I can't wait to see that." He left this time.

 

 _Sweet sister, you had the most loyal servant in your hands, yet you found the way to ruin it._ If Tyrion still had doubts, those had been dismissed; the piece was now a player.

 

 

 

SANSA

 

She sat and leaned against a tree as she watched her husband leaving the godswood. He wasn't a bad man, she knew it, but she reminded herself not to let the guard down. Sansa considered what awaited her the next day and sighed.

 

It had been difficult, but somehow, despite the complications she had set everything in place. When she arrived at King's Landing, her circumstances were more than unfavorable. Petyr had got to speak with the Dragon Queen before she did and had sown dangerous ideas in her head.

 

 _No, it was the Red Priest, Petyr limited to increase the Queen's fears._ The prophecies themselves were ridiculous, but as expected, Petyr had found a way to translate them into something plausible and real. That had resulted in the Dragon Queen being wary of everything that looked northerner. _No matter how much she pretends, the Silver Prince and Jon are not the same for her._

 

Daenerys Targaryen feared Jon's constant increase of influence over the Realm; even if it wasn't intentional. Her innocent cousin didn't know what he had in his hands. First the Vale, then the North, eventually the Riverlands... and Dorne. Not to mention the respect he had gained from the army after the battle.

 

Considering those things, the Queen's course of action was clear. She had to strengthen her position and weaken Jon's a much as possible.

 

The Queen looked for the support of the roses. If the Silver Prince married Margaery Tyrell, Jon would become a common enemy for them. Then, the Queen had to snatch from Jon the only Kingdom that wasn't directly related to him yet, Dorne.

 

 _The Lord Hand can make all the plans he wants, but the sun and the dire wolf won't share a bed._ The Queen would find an excuse to cancel the betrothal and marry Jon to someone of her trust or someone who didn't represent a threat. Everything without directly attacking the now popular Ice Dragon.

 

 _I have to get to influence that decision, but I must find my candidate first._ Once she had decided, Margaery would deliver her recommendation to the Queen.

 

Sansa knew she wouldn't be allowed to get close to the Dragon Queen. Furthermore, given her mistrust towards the Starks, the minor attempt would be a mistake. So, as the worthy pupil of Petyr Baelish, she decided to use the same hiding place.

 

Sansa had had to gather every trace of self-control before facing the Golden Rose. She felt too much resentment towards the Tyrells, Margaery and the Queen of Thorns, especially, but it was something she had to do.

 

Sansa had cried in Margaery's arms for the repudiation of her own family. She had complained of how they had sold her to Harrold Arryn to get the military support of the Vale. She expressed her now impossible wishes to be the Lady of Highgarden and become a sister to Margaery, who was so different from her cruel, blood related sister. However, she didn't utter a word against Petyr. That would have been a great mistake.

 

Being for pity, caution or their search for power, the Tyrells had adopted her once again. Sansa planned to make the most of it.

 

"You know, the fact that I defended you from those idiots doesn't mean I've changed my mind about you." Arya appeared behind her, silent as a shadow. It occurred to Sansa that maybe she had been there the whole time.

 

_Which is perfect to prevent Petyr from knowing I contacted you._

 

"It's not like I invited you here to drink tea."

 

"Right, you only do that with Margaery Tyrell. Are you happy with your new family?"

 

 _Of course she knew._ Arya might have an eye on every person she considered a threat to Jon.

 

"It's better than nothing."

 

"Why don't we get to the point already? What do you want?" Sansa sighed.

 

"The mockingbird won't get sentenced tomorrow."

 

"And you want me to get rid of him. Are you scared he might reveal something worse about you?"

_Nothing could be worse than what he has already said._

 

"No, I'm trying to protect my dear cousin," anger finally appeared in her unexpressive face. "The mockingbird’s songs can be very effective against honorable men."

 

"Don't dare to use Jon to manipulate me," she had lowered her tone.

 

"I honestly want to help him."

 

"You're one of them."

 

_It's not like it I'm proud of it._

 

"Your soul is as corrupted as mine," she wouldn't allow Arya to preach about right and wrong to her. "So let's stop pretending and use our _disgraceful_ skills to shield the last trace of honor of our House." Arya bit her lip and Sansa knew she had convinced her.

 

"I’ll do it tonight."

 

"No, you have to wait."

 

"You just say he's dangerous for Jon."

 

"The Queen knows we have motives to kill him. If you don't do it the right way and moment, she could use it as an excuse to accuse Jon of insurrection."

 

"Very well, I’ll wait for the right moment."

 

"You will need an alibi." Arya gave her a smile that made her shiver.

 

"Don't worry; no one will have grounds to relate the _accident_ to me."

 

Arya left first.

 

As she waited for the right moment to return, Sansa laughed at the irony of life. Their hearts couldn't be more separated, however, for the first time in their lives, she and Arya were cooperating with each other.

 

 

 

DAENERYS

 

Dany was staring at Black Water's Bay from her window. Everything was completely white due to the snowfall of the previous night. She observed the city and the Red Keep as they began to come to live. She couldn't help feeling down. She was where she was supposed to be, but it wasn't what she had envisioned.

 

 _It doesn't feel like home._ Viserys had told her their only home was the Red Keep. However, Dany felt the way she had when she took Meeren. I'm an outsider.

 

She had not had the chance to admire the city her ancestors had built for they had to attend the political matters right away. The Lords kept demanding things from them; justice, pardon, acknowledgement and more.  The free folk hated the dragons that had selfishly disturbed their life. She didn't even felt excitement for the victory because they had lost too much to achieve it. And then, there was the fact that she was already suspecting the ones that surrounded her.

 

 _This place must be cursed._ The moment they had set feet into the city, mistrust had bloomed in their hearts.

 

Aegon trusted her without a second thought, but Arianne Martell and Connington couldn't be warier of her. And Jon... she had no idea of what to think of him. Ever since he had arrived at Storm's End, Jon had made sure to keep a low profile regarding politics. Still, he was the only one whose political and military power had increased considerably.

 

 _Is it possible for someone to hold so much power and don't want to make use of it?_ Even she had to admit she enjoyed being powerful, being respected and feared when it was necessary. _Could it be that he's only pretending he's not interested, waiting for the right time to act against us?_

 

Moqorro's predictions and Baelish's warnings became more real, more concrete. The kingdoms that supported Jon, the impending deal with Dorne, Cyara's influence over Aegon... and the Ice Dragon. She had never witnessed an augury fitting reality so perfectly.

 

 _I have to change this._ She was not planning to act against her nephew, but she had to take some precautions. _Even if I become the villain, I'm doing it to prevent another war._

 

"She's here, my Queen," Ser Barristan called her.

 

"Call the priest. I'll receive them in the solar." She had waited long enough for that reunion.

 

"How may I serve you, Your Grace?" Cyara bowed before her.

 

"I'll go straight to the point. You disobeyed me." She lowered her stare.

 

_At least she has some sense of shame._

 

"You ordered me to guard Arya Stark, Queen Daenerys. She left, and I had to go with her."

 

 _Or maybe not._ Her tone had no trace of regret and it hadn't gone unnoticed for Dany that she had never called her my Queen, as most did. _Although that doesn't mean something necessarily._

 

"In that case, you should have stopped her."

 

"Perhaps, but I thought we could be of better use if we cooperated with Princess Arianne."

_Some honesty, at last._ She sighed and decided to set the matter aside. That had resulted, after all, into something good. If Arya Stark had not disobeyed her command, they might have lost everything in that Throne Room.

 

"Very well, I hope it doesn't happen again. Now that Connington has made you an official member of the castle's guard you won't be allowed to take such liberties, especially if you decide to take that white cloak."

 

"Do you agree with it?" She looked quite surprised.

 

"I have no reasons to refuse. But if you take this opportunity you'll have to remember that you serve the dragon, not the sun or the dire wolf." That might give Dany the chance to have more control over her actions.

 

"Of course, Your Grace."

 

"Now, I would like you to explain to me how my nephew managed to freeze that monster. Was it magic?"

 

"It was, Your Grace," she answered with a bit of discomfort.

 

"Which kind of magic?"

 

_If she says blood magic I might... No, I have to calm down._

 

"It wasn't Jon, but the sword. I took it from a White Walker when I was beyond the Wall. We need the dragons to face this sort of things. The enemy has hundreds of those and worse things."

 

"You seem to know a lot about the enemy." Moqorro had appeared unexpectedly, and Dany saw Cyara shiver because of his presence.

 

_Is she scared of Moqorro?_

"I have passed nearly half of my life investigating the enemy."

 

"Are you sure you didn't want to say serving the Great Other?" The Priest approached Cyara and she retreated rather desperately.

 

_She's afraid of him definitely._

 

"You're being rude Priest," Dany cut in. "Cyara, please allow him to keep the sword in a safe place. He might even figure out something about our enemy."

 

"I... if it ends in the wrong hands, it could be dangerous."

 

"Do you consider _my_ hands wrong?" Cyara doubted.

 

"No, Your Grace," she finally conceded and gave the sword to Moqorro. "No one should touch the blade."

 

"It won't happen. You can leave."

 

"Did you notice her reaction, my Queen?" Moqorro asked after Cyara left.

 

"You intimidated her, priest."

 

"Only sinners fear the Lord of Light."

 

"We still have to determine whether she's an enemy or not. One thing is for sure; she's keeping something from us."

 

 _For the time being, we took that thing away from her._ She couldn’t allow Cyara to keep something so dangerous until she had made up her mind about Jon.

 

"I will take care of it, my Queen."

 

"I count on you, Priest. If you excuse me, I have some trials to attend."

 

Dany greeted the Lords and Ladies before taking her place in the dais. She could have preceded from the Iron Throne, but since Aegon, Connington and Jon would also act as judges, she had decided to share the dais with them.

 

"Are you sure I should be acting as a judge?" She heard Jon whispering to Aegon. He still was a bit pale, but almost recovered.

 

"People need to see you at court. They have been asking for you."

 

"That has nothing to do with preceding a trial."

 

"You are a part of this now, nephew. Perhaps your northern perspective of fairness will help us to deal with this. It's good to see you recovered, by the way."

 

"Thank you, my Queen."

 

"I told you it's Daenerys." He nodded, still uncomfortable.

 

They took their seats and the guards positioned behind them. Little Missandei called for silence and said the names of the members of the jury. Dany rose to speak.

 

"Lords and Ladies, you put your faith in us to bring you justice. Today we will give the first step to honour that faith," she breathed. "I call Lord Petyr Baelish to be judged."

 

The doors of the Throne Room opened and the Unsullied directed the man in front of the dais. She sat again and raised her chin.

 

"Petyr Baelish you have been brought here to answer for your crimes against the Realm."

 

"I'll answer for anything the Dragon Queen asks from me."

 

"The Lords of the Vale accuse you of the murders of Jon Arryn, Lysa Arryn and Robert Arryn. They said you schemed to kill Eddard Stark. Tyrion Lannister blames you for the murder of Joffrey Baratheon. What do you have to say about that?"

 

"Looks like I have been rather busy committing crimes. Where should I start? Robert Arryn was a sickly child. I'm sure Maester Colemon can confirm that his death was due to a sickness that had afflicted him since he was born. Lysa Arryn murdered her husband and I have a letter from her that proves it. What happened to Lysa was an accident. She was trying to throw Sansa Stark through the Moon Door and when I tried to stop her she fell from it."

 

She made him stop; they would have to deal with the accusations one by one.

 

"Maester Colemon from the Vale, please step forward," the man obeyed. "Can you confirm the first thing? You better tell the truth."

 

"Yes, Your Grace," he said with a nervous voice. "Robert Arryn died because of an overdose of the milk of the poppy." The attendants began to speak in hushed voices.

 

"Was the overdosing something Lord Baelish ordered?" Aegon cut in.

 

"No, it was necessary to keep the trembling from the young Lord under control, but his weak body couldn't stand it anymore."

 

"Do the Lords of the Vale have a way to proof the contrary?" Connington asked.

 

There were whispers once again.

 

"No." Yohn Royce finally spoke for the Vale.

 

"Then I find Petyr Baelish innocent from the murder of Robert Arryn," she declared. The Lords of the Vale couldn't protest.

 

 _What kind of farce are we playing?_ Dany knew the only accusation that would get somewhere was Tyrion's and even that one was weak. Petyr Baelish had told her she would find his hands completely clean. He was right; there was no clue relating him to those crimes. I can't sentence him just based on the general opinion they have from him.

 

"Maester Colemon, can you confirm the authenticity of Lysa Arryn's letter?"

 

The Maester took the parchment from Baelish's hands and started to examine it. Before the Maester could answer, Franklyn Flowers burst into the Throne Room. He directed towards the dais.

 

"My Queen, there's a man who requests an audience with the Dragon Queen." He whispered.

 

"Ser, we're in the middle of a trial. Can't this wait?"

 

"My Queen, the man says he's Jaime Lannister." She shared a look full of skepticism with her fellow judges. She couldn't discern who was more surprised, even Jon had reacted to the news.

 

"We can't receive him here, not now." A great scandal would be produced if they did, and the man could be lying. "Imprison him until we finish with Baelish." The other judges agreed with her.

 

"Yes, Your Grace."

 

She ordered the trial to continue, but she didn't pay much attention to what was being said. Maybe none of them did.

 

 _The gods might fairer than I thought._ They might be if they had delivered the Kingslayer to her.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might have been cruel for me to cut the trial like that, but Baelish's case I wanted to focus more in the hidden movements behind the trial, than in the trial itself, and how "justice" really works in the Game. 
> 
> I will finish it next chapter, but I won't get into much detail with it. (we all know how it's going to end already)
> 
> I hope I have captured the essence of the Game, even if it was just a little... I think that's all.
> 
> Next Chapter: "Valonqar"
> 
> Ps: It's highly probable that the next chapter takes more than two weeks to be ready... Just wanted you to know. u^u


	19. Valonqar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have forgotten to thank to all of those who have commented on this story, but I'm very grateful that you not only take the time to read but comment about this. It's a great motivation for me and helps me to keep developing the story.
> 
> There has been a lot of discussion in the comments about the Jon/Arianne relationship. As I've said to some of you, I really like the idea, but it wasn't useful for me to take this story the way I want. That's why I decided to create another story in which is not only possible, but necessary.
> 
> If you got time go and take a look at "Promise Me"  
> However, since this story takes most of my free time, the updates for that second story will be rather irregular.
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter.

 

 

TYRION

 

Tyrion kept getting more anxious every moment. Invariably, his mind was his worst enemy. He had known the course the trial would take; he would have been able to guess it, even if he had not talked with Sansa the previous day. Nevertheless, his doubts continued appearing one after another.

 

As expected Baelish had easily brushed off the accusations of the Vale. Much to the northerners' dismay, Eddard Stark's issue didn't get too far either. The leech had been incredibly careful covering his steps, but Tyrion had already expected that. What made him anxious was the approaching trial by combat to define who had been the culprit behind Joffrey's murder. He had started to question his decision to trust his young wife.

 

 _She has no reasons to support me and a bunch to get rid of me._ Considering the sort of things Sansa had been planning, she could have lied to him about the champion just to make sure he wouldn't find one of his own. _Not that there would be a difference._ He didn't have a lot of friends in Red Keep.

 

Additionally, there was something that had been bothering him for a long while now.

 

Shortly after the beginning of the trial, Franklyn Flowers had informed to the judges something that had changed their expressions considerably. It was absurd, it had nothing to do with him, but Tyrion hadn't been able to dismiss his uneasiness ever since.

 

"Let's move onto the last accusation against Petyr Baelish," The Queen ordered after a brief intermission. "Tyrion Lannister accuses you of the murder of Joffrey Baratheon during his wedding feast, Lord Baelish. What is your defense against that?"

 

The leech smiled and stroked his ridiculous pointy beard.

 

"I have to say that is the most ridiculous of all the allegations, my Queen. I wasn't at the capital during that wedding and if I remember correctly, the Lannister dwarf was found guilty of that crime in a previous trial."

 

"I heard that trial was more than questionable," Jon pointed. He was trying hard to hide his disdain towards the man.

 

"Indeed, the trial was preceded by questionable people, we intend to correct that mistake, Lord Baelish, that's why we are resuming the matter during this one," Aegon explained.

 

_Who could be more dubious than Tywin Lannister for the dragons? I think I owe you that one father._

"First of all, we have a witness that assures you were at King's Landing the day of the murder. Sansa Stark, step forward."

 

Connington's order surprised Baelish. He was not expecting Sansa would testify against him directly; she had, after all, remained silent during the previous deliberations.

 

 _Baelish taught her well._ She had forgotten about the first accusations to focus her attacks on the strongest case. And she had given Baelish the idea that she wouldn't dare to risk her position with the Tyrells.

 

"Yes, Lord Hand." Sansa curtsied before the judges and lowered her gaze, her fingers flickering nervously.

 

"Speak, Lady Sansa."

 

"Lord Baelish didn't attend the wedding, but he wasn't at the Vale either."

 

"How do you know that?"

 

Sansa stared nervously between Baelish and the judges.

 

"He was the one who took me out of the city that day. Ser Dontos Hollard took me to a ship where Lord Baelish was waiting for me. He ordered to kill the knight and took me to the Vale where he held me captive for almost two years." She had started to shake.

 

_Adorable._

_Petyr_ didn’t like what he was seeing.

"Very well. I took the girl out of the city as a favor to her late mother. Joffrey Baratheon had made a hobby out of her pain. I didn't keep her captive, but safe from Cersei Lannister. That woman wanted her beautiful head. That's not a reason to relate me to the murder, though." Baelish said in a tight voice. He had delivered the first hint of Joffrey's cruelty.

 

"Why would you kill the knight that cooperated with you?"

 

"He cooperated because I offered him gold in exchange. I knew that kind of man would reveal what had happened when he needed more gold. It was a precaution I took to protect the life of an innocent girl."

 

"Lady Sansa do you have any proofs that relate this man to the murder of Joffrey Baratheon?"

 

"No, Lord Hand. I know... I only know he was here the day of the wedding, but I know nothing about the murder."

 

"Why wouldn't you tell anyone he was holding you captive?"

 

"I just... I wanted to get out of the city, away from Joffrey and his tortures. I didn't know Lord Baelish was an evil man at that moment. I thought he was my mother's friend." Her voice broke, and she covered her head with her hands.

 

"That's enough, you can return to your seat, Sansa." Jon didn't want to expose her anymore.

 

 _Not that she cares about it._ She returned to the security of her seat, to Harry’s comfort.

 

"Tyrion Lannister, present your proofs."

 

He moved forward to testify.

 

"I have none, just my guesses, Lord Hand."

 

"Explain yourself."

 

"Petyr Baelish wasn't present at the feast. That would have been stupid considering he wanted to kill my wicked nephew, but that doesn't mean he didn't send someone to perform the task. He lied about being at the Vale during the wedding, and just admitted that Dontos Hollard was working for him. Hollard was a buffoon at the wedding, so he had chances to poison Joffrey, which would explain why Baelish had him killed." It had been quite a long speech, but it might make the judges think.

 

"I believe I already explained why I decided to proceed that way with Hollard. And even if he had the possibility to perform the crime, it's more than obvious that I had no motives to kill Joffrey Baratheon, Your Graces."

 

"What would have been a better distraction from Sansa Stark's abduction? No one concerned of her whereabouts, not until she was suspected the murderer." Tyrion shared with a light shrug. "Besides," something had suddenly come to his mind, "Lord Baelish had motives to kill my nephew," he made a brief pause and found some diversion in Baelish's stunned face. "He claims to love Catelyn Stark; death seems like a fitting punishment for the Red Wedding where his beloved was butchered."

 

Tyrion had to repress his smile when he saw the rage in Baelish's eyes. The attendants started to whisper; he had given them a reason to suspect Baelish. Connington called for silence immediately.

 

"But none of you have real proofs against the other," he stated with strain.

 

"No," Tyrion admitted.

 

"If the judges allow me a suggestion, maybe the fastest way to solve this predicament would be a trial by combat," Baelish regarded him with an instant cunning smile. "Let's allow the gods to decide who is telling the truth."

 

"If Lord Tyrion has no objection, we agree to it."

 

"If that makes this faster..." He made a great effort to avoid looking at Sansa.

 

"Present your champions so that we can finish this already," Connington said impatiently and the other judges only nodded in agreement.

 

The dragons' silence didn't go overlooked for Tyrion. The three of them were clearly thinking about something unrelated to the trial. He remembered his previous anxiety.

 

"Lothor Brune," Baelish called.

 

 _Lothor Apple-Eater._ Tyrion wasn't surprised to know one of the heroes of the Battle of the Blackwater was in Baelish's payroll.

 

"How about you, Tyrion Lannister?"

 

"Since I didn't know this would end in a trial by combat, I didn't prepare a champion. I will have to ask the judges to give me some time to find my supporter."

 

"That won't be necessary," someone spoke from the back of the room, "I support the Halfman's cause."

 

 _I guess I owe one to my beautiful wife._ It had taken him an instant to recognize the voice, and he found it more than amusing when he did. _So Sansa has some sense of humor._

 

"I thought we had finished our contract." He offered when they were close enough.

 

"My last boss lost her privileged position," he shrugged, "a little bird told me you needed help, and the mountain was no more, so I had nothing to lose."

 

"You know, I can almost say I missed your cynicism," Tyrion smirked, "we'll discuss the new terms of your contract after you win, Ser Bronn of the Blackwater."

 

"I prefer Lord Stokeworth," he said before stepping forward.

 

 _Mayhap Baelish already knew about this._ The leech didn't look surprised, but it wouldn't be strange for him to predict some of Sansa's movements.

 

The combat took more time than he would have liked. Lothor Brune wasn't Vardis Egen; his skills were more in pair with Bronn. Eventually, and much to Tyrion's relief, Bronn outsmarted his opponent. For once, circumstances had turned the way they had been planned.

 

"Lord Petyr Baelish, you have been found guilty of the murder of Joffrey Baratheon. The jury will determine a reasonable sentence for you." Connington determined.

 

"Is there something else you have to say before the deliberation of the judges?" The Queen had recovered some of her composure by then.

 

"I did what I thought right for the sake of the Realm."

 

"You lied to us and blamed another for the crime. That doesn't sound beneficial for the Realm." Jon had waited long enough to get justice for Eddard Stark.

 

 _I'm so sorry, but it won't end that way, not here._ It was a real shame because the resolution of the trial would only make the relationship among the dragons tenser.

 

"It's not easy to admit you killed someone, especially someone young. I apologize for that, Prince Jon," Baelish feigned a pained expression. "But I expect the judges consider the fact that Joffrey was mad and dangerous for Westeros; he was vicious and cruel. Sansa Stark can give testimony of that. The Realm would have burned under his reign."

 

_What a convenient selection of words for me._

 

The jury took some time to discuss the sentence, and it was evident that the discussion had gotten heated up. It ended with a Jon that looked somewhat frustrated and an ashamed Aegon.

 

Much to Tyrion's surprise, Jon took the word before the Queen could start to speak.

 

"For me you should be sentenced to death, and not only for the murder of _your_ King. I find it more than suspicious that you seem so innocent," He inhaled deeply before continuing. "Fortunately for you, it's not my decision." Jon left the Throne Room without directing a second glance to his fellow judges.

 

It wasn't the smartest move to make such a display in front of the whole court, but Jon was too much like Eddard Stark to accept what had just happened.

 

A still dazed Daenerys cleared her throat. "Lord Petyr Baelish, you were found guilty of the murder of Joffrey Baratheon but took charge of a potential danger to the people of Westeros. Thus, your life will be spared. However, you'll be stripped of your lands, wealth and all the titles Joffrey Baratheon and his family granted you. You'll remain in King's Landing until these matters are settled."

 

 _‘A potential danger,’ I must remember those words._ Unlike the infuriated northerners and Lords of the Vale, Tyrion would benefit from the resolution of the trial.

 

"I can't disagree with the Dragon Queen." Baelish was clearly satisfied.

 

"Guards, take him to his chambers. My Lords, this is enough for today. We'll resume the trials first thing in the morning."

 

The multitude began to disperse while commenting on the trial and the behavior of the Ice Dragon. The Lords had witnessed first-hand that the dragons did not always agree. Tyrion had no doubt that some Lords had taken note of that and would try to use it to their advantage.

 

Before he exited the Throne Room, Franklyn Flowers stopped him.

 

"Lord Tyrion, the Queen requests your presence in the Small Council's Hall."

 

_There's no pause for difficulties._

 

When he entered the Hall, he found another heated conversation between the Dragons. Connington and Daenerys were scolding Jon. Aegon was merely observing them.

 

"What the hell was that kind of performance, Jon? The attendants must be already whispering about it."

 

"I only said what I thought."

 

"It was not the time or place, nephew."

 

Be it the dire wolf inside him or the irritation he felt due to Baelish being spared, Jon confronted Daenerys. The reluctant dragon had given way to the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. He held her violet stare with his gray one.

 

"I have no clue of how things are supposed to work here; I wasn't raised to attend court. But I can assure you have betrayed the trust of half of the men who fought to get the Iron Throne. The North and the Vale won't take that lightly."

 

"Are you suggesting they're going to rebel again?" Daenerys had not liked the last part.

 

"Maybe, I don't know."

 

"I thought they followed your commands, nephew."

 

Jon's expression clouded.

 

 "They are following a memory, but my father's image won't keep them under control forever. Not after this." Connington stiffened when he heard the word _father_.

 

"There were not enough proofs to sentence him for the accusations of the Vale and the North, Jon." Aegon tried to act the mediator.

 

"No, but we could have at least imprisoned him or send him to the Wall. Aegon, he was found guilty of king slaying."

 

"Joffrey Baratheon was the son of the Usurper, not a king."

 

_More like the Kingslayer's son._

 

"Joffrey wasn't the rightful king, but he was Baelish's king. What prevents him from acting against his new King?" Jon said looking at Aegon and Connington's expression changed a bit.

 

"We took away his power. He has no means to do so."

 

 _No, only roses._ They noticed Tyrion's presence just then.

 

"Nothing can be done about Baelish anymore," Connington set the matter aside. "We have to deal with _something_ _else_." He prompted Tyrion to take a seat.

 

"During the trial two men and a woman were arrested at one of the city gates."

 

"And this is related to me because..."

 

"One of them is your brother."

 

"Jaime?"

 

_That explains their faces during the trial._

 

"Do you have another brother?"

 

 _Fucking idiot._ Tyrion massaged his temples; he had expected to have more time before Jaime had to face the dragons. He couldn't discern what had prompted him to return to King's Landing despite the evident consequences.

                                                                               

"Are you going to judge him or sentence him right away?"

 

"Of course we are going to judge him." Aegon seemed offended by the question.

 

"We will postpone the rest of the trials to perform this one."

 

"You seem eager to sentence him. May I remind you that you need him to gain control over the Western lands?"

 

"We will decide that tomorrow."

 

Tyrion sighed.

 

"What about the others?"

 

"Podrick Payne and Brienne of Tarth were taken into custody but won't be imprisoned since they haven't committed any crime."

 

 _What was Pod doing with Jaime and the Maid of Tarth?_ In fact, what was Jaime doing with the Maid of Tarth?

 

"Will you allow me to talk to Jaime?" He needed to act immediately.

 

"Do as you want. Flowers, take him to the black cells," Connington regarded the dragons, "let's call it a day." The three of them left the Hall in silence like reprimanded children.

 

 _Maybe Connington is the true mother of dragons._ He repressed his comment and his smirk.

 

Tyrion sighed. The way he saw it, tension would continue gathering up, especially now that Jon had openly confronted Daenerys. _Jon must get out of King's Landing to prevent their relationship to become more difficult._

Tyrion followed Franklyn Flowers to the black cells. He debated before entering. He didn't know how he was supposed to face Jaime after what he had told him the last time.

 

"Could you leave me alone, Ser?" The knight was about to protest but ultimately agreed. He closed the door behind him.

 

 _Is he really my brother?_ Jaime had leaned on the dirty straw from the floor. The clothes that once were white were now full of dirt, and he could have easily passed for a man ten years older than he was. His beard and hair were unkempt and had lost their original bright. Tyrion only confirmed that poor excuse of a man was Jaime when he opened his eyes. Green as shining emeralds, but tired as if they had lived a hundred years already.

 

"Did you come to mock of me, _kinslayer_?" Jaime delivered in a flat tone.

 

Tyrion felt his guts twist with anger but contained himself. He had made him thought that he had killed his vicious bastard, after all.

 

"I came to return the favor and try saving your useless life, stupid cripple," he spat.

 

"Why would you? You befriended the dragons after killing your father. They will certainly reward you with Casterly Rock. Isn't that what you have always wanted?"

 

 _The dragons don't like me as much as it looks, but the Lannister gold is another matter._ Luckily for him, they wouldn't risk appearing tyrant by taking the gold away from the Western lands after getting rid of its liege Lord. _Jon could make a fuss about that as well._

"That scoundrel wanted me dead since I was born," he shrugged. "I had to kill him first. Isn't that the way it happens during battles as well? Besides he always repeated I wasn't his son, so does that still counts as kin slaying?" Jaime limited to stare at him. "And about the Rock, I don't want to get killed by Tywin Lannister's fans, so I was planning to leave that to you. I'm happy enough with my assignment as Master of Coin, although I would have preferred to be Hand, more benefits come with it."

 

Jaime grunted.

 

"You expect me to accept your help after you killed my son?"

 

_Ah, come on, you never cared for the evil bastard._

 

"It's a shame they didn't let you attend the trial. It was a good farce, just like the previous one, thought way fairer. Baelish was the real culprit."

 

"You confessed it had been you," Jaime said with narrowed eyes.

 

_And I regretted it almost immediately._

"I wanted you to pay for your own confession," he admitted and Jaime averted his eyes. "But it wasn't me."

 

An uncomfortable silence prolonged during what seemed an eternity until Jaime finally spoke.

 

"Even if I believe you, you won't be able to help me. I killed the Queen's mad father, did you forget that?"

 

"Which makes me wonder what kind of retarded reason you had to come here." Jaime didn't answer, but Tyrion understood. He rubbed his face with desperation. "Fucking idiot, I lied about Joffrey, but I meant every word I said about Cersei. Do you want to be burnt by her side, romantic ass?"

 

"I know, Lancel told me about that, but I didn't come for her. I came for Tommen and Myrcella."

 

"For real?" Tyrion blinked at him.

"I never cared for them more than I cared for my horse's shit; I recognize that much." Jaime lifted his face, his eyes almost pleading. "I reconsidered my life since they cut my right hand. Call me an idiot, but I want to recover some of who I was before receiving the white cloak. If my life could spare theirs... that would be a good end."

 

_Romantic ass._

 

"They won't touch Tommen or Myrcella; the Silver Prince and the Ice Dragon won't allow it, so don't worry about them. We'll focus on saving your life."

 

"I would like to know how you plan to do that."

 

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." The plan was only backed by Sansa's ambitions and Jon's honor.

 

 _Two Starks saving a Lannister._ It was absurd no matter how he thought about it.

 

"So what is your master plan?"

 

"Tell everything you can remember about Aerys’s madness and swear you will surrender the Western lands to them. You have to emphasize Aerys was a _potential danger_ to the people of Westeros."

 

"They won't believe me." Jaime scowled.

 

"Ser Barristan might be able to confirm some of those things." He wouldn't lie to the Queen. Would he? "You came ready to die, so you have nothing to lose."

 

"I guess I'll trust your brain then."

 

"I'll come before the trial and tell you if there are any changes." He knocked to ask Flowers to open the door.

 

"What are you going to do?"

 

"I'll look for a champion in case things get the wrong way."

 

"You're not reassuring."

 

"I never said my plan was perfect."

 

The obvious option was Bronn, so he looked for him in the maester's chambers; he had some wounds that had to be attended. However, the despicable man had not changed a single bit and put his self-preservation over Tyrion's needs. Not that he could complain about it.

 

"I don't want to challenge the rage of the Dragon Queen."

 

"You just defended me, didn't you?"

 

"You didn't kill her father. Sorry boss, but I doubt you'll find someone willing to fight for the Kingslayer," Bronn said nonchalantly.

 

"I hope you're wrong." But hoping wouldn't make things change.

 

He looked for the only alternative he had left.

 

"I won't."

 

"If you're worried about the Queen's retaliation..."

 

"I wouldn't have defended Arya," she cut him off.

 

"Then what stops you from doing this? I would pay you ten times... Don't tell me you accepted Connington's proposal." Cyara avoided his mismatched eyes.

 

_Why is it everyone I know insist on doing stupidities?_

 

"I did, but that's not the reason either."

 

Tyrion twisted his mouth.

 

"You ignored my well-intended advice, at least let me know your reason." He was angry now.

 

She winced before kneeling to whisper in his ear.

 

"He threw Brandon Stark from the tower at Winterfell." He had suspected it from the beginning but hearing the confirmation wasn't easy.

 

 _Maybe the gods are fair after all and just take their time to deliver justice._ He pondered. _Jaime can consider himself a dead man._

 

"Why haven't you told them?"

 

 _Jon wouldn't be so calm if he knew already._ But thinking carefully about it, she didn't have to pronounce a single word. There were high possibilities for Jaime getting condemned. Therefore, he would ultimately get his punishment for what he did to Bran Stark.

 

"As much as it displeases me to lie to them, I don't want to bring them more grief." She nervously ran a hand through her hair. "I might be mistaken, but I don't think it would be good for none of them. Yearning for revenge is not healthy for anyone. I'm sorry for you, though."

 

 _Your pity won't save my brother's life._ Plus, he knew it wasn't real; she might think Jaime deserved to be sentenced.

 

"Whatever, go and enjoy your life of service," he said not without anger, not only because he had no other options but because of Jaime's stupidity. Tyrion wondered if he deserved to be saved.

 

He got a skin of bad, sour wine from the kitchens and drank it almost in a single swallow. He felt infuriated and impotent. His brother would be sentenced because he had been stupid enough to fall in Cersei's web. Tyrion was sure his thoughtless older brother had done it because he assumed it would please their sweet sister.

 

The wine didn't remove his anxiety; he felt an unpleasant sensation in the guts, too similar to what he felt before Oberyn Martell faced the Mountain. That wasn't a good omen.

 

He returned to his assigned chambers with the certainty that Jaime would turn into ashes the next day. Even in his disheartened state he noticed someone had delivered the account books to his work desk.

 

His designation as Master of Coin wouldn't become official until the great feast in which the names of the members of the Small Council, and the Royal Guard would be announced, along with the necessary betrothals. However, he had already started to revise the last movements of the Crown, regarding the Royal Ark. He had to be ready to face the unavoidable call from the Iron Bank. He knew they would pay a visit to the _rightful_ rulers of the Seven Kingdoms sooner than later.

 

He believed the work would help him to ignore the unwanted thoughts in his head, so he sat and took the first of the books. There was a piece of parchment marking a page in the book. He opened the volume at the marked point and found anything relevant... not in the signaled page, but there was something written on the parchment. He quickly recognized the calligraphy.

 

_Do not worry any longer. I obtained that which you needed and were not able to find._

 

Tyrion approached the parchment to the trembling flame of the lamp and watched as the fire consumed it. He felt a new kind concern inside him; his beautiful wife had enough means to have him dancing in her hand for the rest of his lifetime.

 

 

 

JON

 

 _If only I hadn't beheaded Slynt,_ he repeated in his mind over and over again as he opened and closed his burnt hand minutely. He was angry at Daenerys, Aegon, and Connington for sparing Baelish, but he was the angriest at himself for making it easier. _I could have brought Slynt to declare against Baelish, and he might have been condemned. Or maybe not._

 

He didn't know what to think. The way others thought was way too different from his; he might be the weird one. He had been unconscious most of the time he had spent at the Red Keep, but the few, short interactions he had had with the people at court had not been pleasant.

 

He couldn't stop feeling wary of every member of the court. He had the conviction that each gesture, every word was hiding something; he didn't have what was required to deal with that kind of circumstances.

 

 _Did you feel the same way when you came here, father?_ He couldn't picture Eddard Stark dealing with those sorts of persons or the situations in which politic was more valuable than justice. _How many other trials of the kind will I have to observe?_ One was for sure. _Depending on the development, I might decide not to take part again._

 

The next day he woke early and took his time to prepare for the day. Connington had insisted he should have servants to help him, but he had refused. He had taken care of himself since he was a child, and he wasn't planning to change it. He had the impression he would lose something essential if he did.

 

He was supposed to have breakfast with Aegon and Daenerys, but he decided he wasn't in the mood. He went to see Arya instead.

 

"To what do I owe the honor of your visit, my prince?" He smiled and mussed her hair. Arya slapped his hand away from her hair with a scowl. "Lady Maege took almost an hour to untangle it."

 

"As if you cared about the appearance of your hair, little sister."

 

"I care about Maege Mormont's rage, I think she's half-bear," she said as she tried to arrange the mess that was her mane. "Honestly, what are you doing here?" Nothing escaped from her.

 

"I didn't see you yesterday."

 

"I didn't want to see Baelish going unpunished."

 

"I'm sorry about that."

 

"It was not your fault," she shrugged, "I know it as well as the northerners and the knights of the Vale, but they're not happy."

 

"Did you hear something?" He would have to talk to them to prevent a disgrace from happening.

 

"They have not said it openly, but I see their faces." Arya gave him a meaningful look.

 

"I'll see what I can do about that. Will you attend today?" She gave him her wolfish smile.

 

"I will, I have the feeling it will get interesting today."

 

"You want to see Jaime Lannister condemned?" It was quite dark to think about it.

 

"Not really."

 

"Then what is it that you want to see?"

 

"I want to see how the Dragon Queen tries to walk out of her own mess." An expression he had not seen before flashed instantly in her face; he could have very well imagined it.

 

"You know, lately I have no idea of what you talk about."

 

"You'll realize soon enough."

 

They entered the Throne Room together, and he escorted her to her seat. He then directed to the dais, where he would play a role he didn't want.

 

"We missed you at breakfast, nephew."

 

"I didn't seem reasonable to attend."

 

"It was misunderstanding. I don't think it is enough reason for you to isolate yourself."

 

"You might be right Aegon, it won't happen again."

 

But the way Daenerys looked at him told him she didn't think it irrelevant.

 

The protocol to start the trial was performed and Jaime Lannister was brought in front of the dais. Jon couldn't believe the man he had seen at Winterfell before everything started and this one were the same. He didn't have the presence of a King anymore.

 

"Jaime Lannister, do you know why you were brought here today?" Daenerys started.

 

"I slew the Mad King eighteen years ago, in this same room," he said indifferently.

 

He could not deny it, but saying it that way, he was asking to be killed. Jon could feel Daenerys and Aegon's fury beside him.

 

"You confess you murdered your King."

 

"I did a service to the Realm. I took care of _a potential danger to the people of Westeros_."

 

Jon understood Arya's words after he heard that. The Lords began to whisper. The trial had suddenly become personal.

 

"You broke sacred vows. That's what you did." Daenerys's voice was pure steel.

 

Jon could see how Jaime Lannister's expression clouded as he gave them a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

 

"Yes, I broke my vows. I failed to obey the laws when I allowed the Mad King to roast Rickard Stark in his armor, strangle Brandon Stark and accepted it as a fair trial by combat. After all, we were not to judge the King's actions. Wasn't it what the White Bull told us, Ser Barristan? What a good excuse to look away." Jaime laughed. "I also failed to protect the weak and innocent the night you were conceived, Dragon Queen. I can still remember Queen Rhaella's screams as she pleaded your father to stop. I would have tried to defend her, but the great Jonothor Darry told me we weren't supposed to protect her from the King, so I did nothing. Or the time he decided to keep Elia Martell and her children as hostages to secure the dornish support. What a pitiful knight."

 

The Throne Room had fallen silent. Everyone was listening to Jaime Lannister. It was an accepted truth that Aerys was mad, but to hear about the sordid actions that had earned him the title was disgusting.

 

"I failed to accomplish my King's orders when he asked me to bring him my father's head. And I failed miserably to do his bidding when I slew him and his crazy alchemist to prevent him to burn the city to ashes with wildfire. Which kind of knight would choose to the save the lives of all the inhabitants of a dirty city instead of obeying his King? I am the worst scum." He stared directly at Daenerys. "You know, Dragon Queen, I have always wondered how the Mad King ended with one of the best Royal Guards of all times. Save from me, of course."

 

Daenerys and Aegon were if possible, paler than usual. Jon didn't know if it was the truth or the fact that the Targaryen rule had been labeled as dangerous with a few words.

 

"You're lying. My father would have not sacrificed thousands of lives just for fun," her voice was shaking.

 

"No, he didn't do it for fun, but to detriment Robert Baratheon’s victory. I can still hear him saying: _Burn them all._ _Let Robert be king over charred bones and cooked meat,_ over and over again until I ended his crazy life. Was I supposed to allow him do to do that?"

 

“You have no proofs, nor witnesses.”

 

“The eunuch might have the proofs, but of course he won't show them, it's not convenient. As for the witnesses, some of them died at my hands the day the city fell; the rest, were burnt for alleged treason before that."

 

"How are we supposed to believe your words? You're the son of a traitor, a rebel."

 

"I am, as much as the man who sits beside the Silver Prince," he buffed. "Lady Stoneheart will find it hilarious," he muttered.

 

Aegon was about to retort something, but Jon held his arm and shook his head to him. People would keep calling him a bastard or the son of a traitor if they wanted. There was no use to start a fight for something like that.

 

"Words are not enough to sentence you or forgive you," Connington expressed calmly.

 

"Maybe we should let the gods decide whether I'm telling the truth or not." The smile he gave was more similar to the one Jon had seen at Winterfell.

 

 _Tyrion made good use of Baelish's trial._ Jaime Lannister was following his brother's instruction; he had no doubts. It was a dirty move; Jon didn't like it. Nevertheless, he couldn't completely reprobate Tyrion's proceeding. He might have done the same to save any of his siblings.

 

Daenerys smiled. She might believe no one would dare to risk their lives to save the Kingslayer. But he wouldn't have suggested it if he didn't have a plan, would he?

 

"Very well, you have that right. I believe that as you lost your sword hand you'll require a champion."

 

"Indeed, Dragon Queen."

 

"And who might that be?"

 

"I will defend Jaime Lannister, my Queen. I believe his words."

 

All the attendants turned to the end of the room to look for the owner of the voice. It was a tall figure with short blonde hair... a woman. What stunned him the most was that someone was actually daring to defend the Kingslayer.

_Did he promise her gold?_ It ought to be a monstrous amount of it.

 

"What's your name, my lady?" Connington inquired over the ruckus of the attendants.

 

"Brienne of Tarth."

 

They had only appointed Duck and Ser Barristan as members of the Royal Guard. They couldn't risk them right at the beginning, so they selected a less distinguished champion for the Targaryen cause; a Stormcrow. The Widower, one of the most lethal members, according to Daario Naharis.

 

The attendants retreated to give more space to the champions. The widower was a bit taller than Brienne of Tarth, and very strong if they could trust Daario. Jon felt worried for the Maid of Tarth. She shouldn't be risking her life, not for Jaime Lannister.

 

The combat started, and Jon heard the sound of the steel against the steel before registering the movements. He was completely shocked, and not because the Maid of Tarth could fight at the level of a famous sellsword, no. After all, between Arya, Ygritte, Cyara, the Sand Snakes and the Spearwives, he had had his good share of skilled women. It was the strength of Brienne of Tarth what he found amazing. Most of the female fighters he had met relied on speed rather than force, but not Brienne. She might even be stronger than Obara Sand.

 

The Widower's arakh scratched her armor and shouted offensive remarks at her. The Maid of Tarth kept pressing with her long sword; she moved it as if she had been born with it, like a real knight. Just then, Jon realized it was Valyrian Steel, but with strange crimson waves.

 

The Widower moved fast and made a cut on her thigh and smiled when he heard her pained groan. However, he had gotten too close to her, and with a fast slash, Brienne of Tarth reached his side. The combat had finished. Jaime Lannister had been proven right by the gods.

 

The hall fell silent once again. Everyone waited Daenerys to say something. The only sound he could hear was the panting of the Maid of Tarth. Jon called for Haldon.

 

"Someone has to treat her wounds," he nodded.

 

Haldon went to call Brienne. Before she left, Jaime Lannister approached her to tell her something and... had he bowed to her? Jon would never know.

 

"Now the jury shall discuss your sentence, Jaime Lannister." Connington declared, and they retired to the Small Council Hall, to prevent another public confrontation.

 

"I guess he has us right where he wants," Aegon commented with a bit of tension.

 

"We cannot forgive a Kingslayer."

 

"I think we did that yesterday, Dany."

 

"This is different. Joffrey Baratheon was a Usurper."

 

"He was Baelish's king. Plus, considering what Jaime Lannister revealed..."

 

"Lies!" She cut Aegon off. "At least the part of about burning the city must be a lie," she had lowered her tone.

 

 _I would want to believe the same if the involved were someone important for me._ Jon tried to understand Daenerys a bit, but he also considered the Lords and Ladies, especially the ones who trusted him.

 

"If we were to sentence him, our judgment could be considered biased, Daenerys," he tried to make her understand.

 

"He killed my father!"

 

 _And Baelish killed mine._ But telling her that would make no good. Fortunately, Connington decided to interfere.

 

"Jon is right, and we have to take on account that King Aerys's crimes were more serious than the ones Joffrey Baratheon committed. Besides, we need him to control the Western lands, we knew that from the beginning."

 

Jon couldn't stand Daenerys's expression, but there was nothing else. Anything else he had done had been on the battlefield.

 

Daenerys just nodded lightly in the end.

 

It was Connington who delivered the final verdict for Jaime Lannister, not Daenerys. The Crown's debt to the Lannister Household would be nullified along with the handover of five million golden dragons as compensation for the Sacking of the city. Jaime Lannister would become the Lord of Casterly Rock. However, if the Crown sensed the minimum sign of insurrection or turmoil from a Western Household, he would be held responsible, thus, executed. Finally, the Crown would be the one selecting the betrothal for the new Lord of the Rock, to prevent dangerous alliances.

 

The punishment had been quite severe, but far from what a Kingslayer deserved. Once again, they had not acted for justice, but politics.

 

Jon decided he wouldn't be part of something like that anymore.

 

 

 

CERSEI

 

"Cersei Lannister, we found you guilty of the attempted murder of Queen Daenerys Targaryen, Prince Aegon Targaryen and Prince Jon Targaryen. We found you guilty of using dark arts and necromancy against the members of the Royal family. We also found you guilty of conspiracy against the Realm." The man that now she knew was Jon Connington sang in front of the whole court.

 

 _He was Rhaegar's best friend,_ she remembered. Cersei had seen them together a thousand times when she was a young girl at court. However, the man speaking didn't look anything like the young Lord of Griffin's Roost. _That was a lifetime ago when my father was still alive and before the prophecy started to take form._

 

Her trial was over, and the dragons were about to decide her destiny. She could feel the intense stare of the whole court on her. They were expecting her to be sentenced; they wanted her to see her plea and cry for her life. They had always been envious of her, and they wanted to see the lioness humiliated. But she wouldn't allow it; she would not surrender to it. She had survived a humiliation when she walked naked to the Red Keep; she would survive this as well.

 

 _Look at these traitors properly, remember their faces,_ she thought as she stared at the dragons. _They worship you now, but that won't last. Soon enough, you could find yourselves in my position. Especially, if you are stupid enough to keep the roses by your side._

She took a second to glance to Daenerys Targaryen, the Dragon Queen. She looked like everything Cersei had always tried to become. She only had to see the Lordlings faces to know they feared and respected the young Queen.

_'Queen shall you be... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear.'_ She could hear Maggy the Frog.

 

 _I have to recognize I was wrong. I overestimated the little rose, thinking she could be the younger more beautiful Queen._ It had always been Daenerys Targaryen, the sister of Rhaegar. _If the lion is to fall, better be to the dragon._

 

She was calm, despite the circumstances. The prophesied Queen had finally presented in front of her, but, surprisingly enough, she wasn't worried. Just before her trial, Jaime's life had been spared, and he had killed the Mad King. It was unlikely for her to be sentenced to death.

 

 _And then I'll take my time and plan my revenge against those who have wronged me. Sansa Stark and her savage sister, the valonqar and the roses,_ she saw Jaime among the crowd, surrounded by guards, _and you, Jaime._ _You'll have to pay for abandoning me when I needed you the most. You preferred that horrendous cow over me and you'll regret it. I won't give you a moment of peace, treacherous cripple._

She returned her attention to the jury.

 

"Cersei Lannister, you'll be confined at Dragon Stone till the end of your days; you'll be stripped of your Lady Status. If there's any sign of attempt of rebellion against the Crown, you shall be immediately sentenced to death. As for your children, they'll remain here, as pupils of the Crown under the care of their uncle, Tyrion Lannister. If they prove themselves trustworthy, they shall be assigned the rule over Storm’s End." The Lord of Griffin's Roost finished, and Cersei felt the world sinking beneath her.

 

“NO! YOU CAN’T DO THAT! I WON’T LET YOU!” She ran towards the Dargon Queen.

 

“Guards, keep her under control.”

 

“I will slit your throat in your sleep for this,” she pointed to the Dragon Queen. She wouldn't allow that. Cersei couldn’t see the evil dwarf among the crowd, but she knew he was smiling at his success.

 

"Careful, Cersei Lannister. Don't make me reconsider my merciful decision." Rhaegar's sister looked at her with pity. "Guards, take her to her chambers. She will want to spend as much time as possible with her children before parting to Dragon Stone."

 

She was dragged out of the Throne Room in the middle of grins and whispers from the nasty crowd. She was thrown into the chamber she had been sharing with Tommen and Myrcella.

 

"Mother?" They were both scared. She decided she had to be strong for her little lions.

 

"Do you know what is the Queen going to do with us?"

 

 _Don't call her Queen, I'm the Queen,_ she had been about to snap, but contained herself. Her little lions weren't responsible for what was happening.

 

"Don't worry, my beautiful princess. I won't allow them to hurt you."

 

 _I won't allow the evil dwarf to hurt you. No matter what I have to do, I won't let him have either of you._ She knew what she had to do.

 

They served them supper, and they ate together as if they were still the rulers of the Keep. She gave her little lions reassuring smiles every time she could. She told them stories about powerful lions, the way she used to do when they were younger. She put them to bed and stroked their beautiful golden hair until they were fast asleep.

 

She stared at her both beautiful lions for a long, long time. She would not let the valonqar touch them. The lioness would do whatever was necessary to protect her cubs.

 

Cersei moved to the table and took the meat knife. She approached the bed and sat beside her little princess. In an instant, everything would be over. She slid the knife through her porcelain neck and covered her mouth to prevent her from making noises. She held her Myrcella's emerald gaze and whispered reassuring words until she closed her eyes again.

 

Tommen didn't even move. Her little lions now were safe from the evil dwarf.

 

Cersei kneeled beside the bed; her strength had abandoned her. She lifted her hands and examined them as if it was the first time she saw them.

 

 _Lannister crimson, what a magnificent color._ The tears started to fall, heavy, unstoppable, like the rain.

 

She remained like that until morning. She heard noises outside the door but didn't pay attention to them. They would get nothing from her.

 

The door opened.

 

"The Queen only granted you a couple of minutes." There was no answer, and the door closed again.

 

"I don't have much time, Cersei."

 

She lifted her gaze to see Jaime.

 

 _My other half._ She reached for him instinctively.

 

When he saw her hands, Jaime stilled, and his eyes, so similar to hers went impossibly wide. He turned to the bed and saw their little cubs.

 

He fell to his knees in front of her.

 

"What have you done?" His voice was less than a whisper.

 

"Ssh. They are safe from the valonqar."

 

"What in the Seven Hells are you talking about?"

 

Cersei saw her twin covering his face with his left hand. After a short while, he looked at her again. His eyes were full of tears... and wrath. On an instant, he was over her. Both hands, the false and the real, pressing her neck.

 

She didn't resist, for she did not have the energy to do so. She simply stared back at her twin until darkness took her away.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a lot of planning and endless research from the source material.  
> The identity of the valonqar is one of the greatest mysteries in ASOAIF, so I wanted to develop this carefully.  
> Perhaps the resolution was a bit... dark, but that's the way I thought things may happen. I'm aware that the fact that Jaime only has one hand makes the development I chose quite impossible and in a sense, unfaithful to the prophecy, but that's my vision of the events.  
> Thank you for reading.
> 
> Next Chapter: "Disappointment"


	20. Disappointment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, here we are, the anticipated meeting between Jon and Arianne. I pray to the old gods that it worths all the time you have been waiting for it.  
> I tried my best to express the feelings of the characters. I expect it was faithful to their personalities.  
> I added a picture of the Red Keep because most of the time when I'm writing or reading the original work I find difficult to imagine where the places are located. Hopefully, it will be useful for you as well.
> 
> Enjoy!

                                                    

 

 

* * *

 

ARYA

 

 _This place must be somewhere near Arianne Martell's chambers,_ she thought as she moved forward in the darkness, only guided by her instincts and the touch of the rough stone of the wall.

 

She had been exploring the Red Keep's secret passages ever since Jon recovered. At first it had been for mere diversion, out of curiosity. However, after Sansa spoke to her and gave her the mission, it had become a serious matter for Arya. She had to find a method to deliver the gift without raising suspicions.

 

Poison was out of the question since too many knew about her training; it would immediately make her suspicious. She wouldn't be able to use weapons either, for similar reasons. To make things more difficult, she would have to make _the accident_ public so that many could declare no northerner had been involved.

 

After a succession of three sleepless nights, she decided what she was going to do. Her plan even provided her an alibi. She would have to memorize the mockingbird’s habits first, though. That had been why she had ended roaming the secret passages.

 

She had discovered how the spider managed to spy on everyone in the Red Keep. The secret passages were all over the castle and had been designed to overhear every conversation and enter the quarters without being noticed.

 

Two or three times she had crossed paths with one of the little birds, but they had never noticed her. She had even memorized their schedules and knew how to avoid them better. Unlike them, she didn't need light to go over the place.

 

"Please, Arianne, I'm begging you." She recognized Trystan Martell's voice through the stone.

 

"We already talked about this."

 

"You said I couldn't visit her or talk to her, but this is different."

 

 _Is he crying?_ It wouldn't be strange, not after what had happened.

 

Cersei Lannister had gone mad after the resolution of her trial and had killed her son and daughter. Then her twin brother had strangled her to death because of that. It had been a great scandal, even Arya felt nauseated by the events.

 

Arya had wanted her dead, she wouldn't deny that, but her children were another matter. The way things had happened was horrible. Furthermore, the worst part was the castle's gossip. People kept commenting on it as if it were something that had happened far away, a thousand years ago. After all, no one cared for the Lannisters anymore.

 

"Father said we had to cut ties with the Lannisters," the princess said matter of factly.

 

"I thought she was your friend."

 

"No Lannister can be a friend of a Martell, not after what they did to Oberyn and Elia."

 

"Myrcella had nothing to do with it!"

 

"You're right, but it's still better for us not to attend the funeral." Arya heard steps. "My brother is not allowed to leave his chamber until the end of the day."

 

"Arianne!"

 

Arya heard a door opening and closing, then nothing. Before she knew, she had entered the room through the secret passage. She blinked at the light before distinguishing Trystane Martell, still, in the middle of the room and staring at the closed door.

 

He turned his head, noticed her and gasped in surprise. Arya lifted one finger to her mouth to ask for silence; he nodded. She went to the door and closed the bolt. Then she got close to him.

 

"Do you want to attend the funeral?" Her voice barely audible.

 

"My sister..."

 

Arya rolled her eyes and cut him off.

 

"I heard her. I'm asking if you want to attend."

 

"I do."

 

"Fine. Put on the oldest cloak you have; you'll have to hide your face."

 

He did as she had instructed. She took his hand and whispered one last time, "don't make a single noise until I tell you." He nodded again.

 

Arya dragged him through the passage and walked confidently in the dark corridors. It took them a couple of minutes to reach the exit, the one near the Hook, not the stinking one at the sewers.

 

"Very well, let's walk to the Sept," she released his hand and started to walk, the prince right behind her.

 

"How did you know about that exit?"

 

_Hasn't he heard about it from the Sand Snakes?_

 

"I got lost when my father was the Hand. I kept walking and found the dark corridors and that exit. I use it when I want to go out unnoticed," she stopped and turned to him. "You can't tell anyone about it, not even your sister."

 

Trystane Martell looked taken aback at first, then relaxed.

 

"Only if you don't tell anyone that I came to the funeral."

 

"I guess we have a deal."

 

They continued walking in silence until they reached the Great Sept.

 

"Go in, I'll wait for you near Baelor's statue. Don't take too long or someone will notice you are gone."

 

Once she was there, she realized she had made an awful choice. It was the place she had been standing when her father was beheaded. She felt the bad memories starting to gather in her mind. Fortunately, something distracted her. Had she just seen Jon entering the Great Sept? She had to find out.

 

She entered in silence and hid behind a column. She saw the prince in front of Myrcella's corpse and Tyrion Lannister speaking to the High Septon. Jon was standing with Cyara near the statues of the Seven Gods. They were staring the corpses from afar.

 

Arya walked to them, still hiding behind the columns. She pulled his cloak to draw his attention. He turned surprised.

 

"Arya, you scared me. What are you doing here?" He susurrated.

 

"I could ask you the same question. I'm only here because I saw you entering."

 

"I needed to get out of the Red Keep." He looked very tired, like her father when he was Hand.

 

 _We have to leave this place._ Their place was at Winterfell. Even if Jon had Targaryen blood, that was where he had grown up.

 

"Did you fight with them again?"

 

It had been almost a week after Baelish’s trial, and the relationship between Jon and the other judges had not improved. They didn't understand his opinion regarding the trials. Plus, he kept worrying to keep the North and the Vale away from trouble.

 

"I didn't fight with Aegon. Although I think Daenerys liked it, Connington wasn't happy when I told him I don't want to preside the trials anymore."

 

"That man is never happy."

 

Cyara scoffed, "Sorry, you couldn't have said it better."

 

"Whatever, why are you here? You could have gone any other place."

 

Jon hesitated before saying, "Look at this, it's very sad don't you think?" The Sept was almost empty. "I don't understand this place or its people. Daenerys is the Queen, but not long ago they were their king and princess."

 

"The people of King's Landing just want to live in peace. They don't care about whose ass sits on the Iron Throne."

 

"I'm not talking about the small folk, but the Lords and Ladies. Margaery Tyrell, for example, she was married to Tommen; she could have come."

 

"They don't want to risk insulting the Dragon Queen."

 

"For attending a funeral?" he winced. "They dealt with the situation as if it was nothing. Seems like their lives meant nothing for Connington or Daenerys or Aegon because they represented no political advantage," he exhaled. "It makes me worry."

 

"For the Realm?" Arya was confused.

 

"For the North, for the Vale, for you and Sansa and Rickon. It makes me wonder what they would do with you if I weren't here. If I weren't the son of Rhaegar." He closed his eyes with a pained expression.

 

"I don't know, but fortunately for us, you are here." She took his hand and squeezed it.

 

"My presence didn't make any difference during the trials," he retrieved his hand away from hers. "I'm sorry, little sister, I'm going back first." He didn't muss her hair before leaving and it made her feel very sad.

 

"Don't worry about him. He needs some time to get rid of that bad habit of blaming himself for things he can't control," Cyara pat her shoulder. "Make sure to return your guest safely," she added before following Jon.

 

Arya was so worried for Jon that she didn't have time to wonder how Cyara had known about the prince. She considered what Jon had told her and decided she would make the difference if necessary.

 

_I'll start with the mockingbird._

The dornish prince found her at the statue some time after that. His eyes were swollen, and she knew he had been crying. They returned to the Red Keep in complete silence.

 

Before they reached the entrance, he made her stop.

 

"Since I won't be able to speak inside the tunnels, I'll do it here," he started. "Thank you," he took her hands and squeezed them. "You don't know how grateful I am that you allowed me to say goodbye to her." He was looking at her as if she had brought Myrcella back to life.

 

"It was nothing."

 

"No, it was everything, but I don't understand why you would take so much trouble to do it."

 

"I know how it feels to lose a friend and not being allowed to mourn for them," she had not thought of Mycah in a long time. "Plus, I wasn't able to mourn my family properly."

 

After taking the prince to his chambers, she pondered about the stupidity of her decision. He could tell someone about her knowledge of the passages and ruin everything. In the end, she set the matter aside and concentrated on what she was going to do next. She had taken a lot of time to develop her plan, and a single mistake would be disastrous.

 

She changed to her sparring clothes and walked to the outer yard to look for the Sand Snakes.

 

"Oh! Look who's coming," Obara called her sisters; they waved at her. "It has been some time little she-wolf."

 

"I know," she paused, "I came to see if I can resume my lessons with the spear."

 

"You mean you didn't get enough the last time?"

 

"I'm not going to give up just because you beat me up a hundred times."

 

"As expected of the little she-wolf," Obara laughed. "Unfortunately for you, I can't beat you personally," she lifted her splinted arm. "I'm sure Nym would be glad to do it. After she's done with Elia, of course."

 

"I can wait." Arya sat beside Obara and pretended to observe the Sand Snakes sparring.

 

Sometime after that, she saw the shift change at the castle's walls. It was time. She closed her eyes and looked for the big black cat. When she found it, she immersed into the darkness.

 

He allowed the mouse to run away. Suddenly, he decided that he wanted to hunt a mockingbird instead. He knew where to find it. He jumped to the window and walked through the place always hiding from the humans. It took him some time, but he finally found the place where he knew the mockingbird would appear soon.

 

He didn't have to wait much. He could hear the mockingbird as he climbed those steps humans used to get from one place to another. The mockingbird was not alone. A human that smelled sweet and two humans of steel were with him.

 

"I'm just saying that the Ice Dragon has the means to do it. If you want the Silver Prince to become King, you will take your precautions with the bastard brother."

 

"You should accept that you are out of the Game already, my friend."

 

He got angry at the sight of the mockingbird, but he knew he had to wait. The men of steel got to the top of the steps and moved aside for the mockingbird to pass.

 

The mockingbird got to the last step. He gathered all his strength and pounced on him, directly to his face. The mockingbird lost the balance and fell back to the bottom of the steps. He heard the shouts of a woman.

 

He descended to the bottom and sniffed at his prey. It smelled of blood and death.

 

He got away from there; more humans would come to see.

 

Arya breathed deeply before opening her eyes. Obara Sand was staring at her curiously.

 

"Were you sleeping? In this kind of place? And I swear I heard you meowing."

 

"I was," Arya faked a yawn, "the combat was getting boring. Perhaps it was a howl."

 

"What is that supposed to mean?!" Elia had heard her.

 

"Never take your eyes away from your opponent, Elia," Lady Nym said before knocking her down.

 

"Looks like it's my turn," she smiled and took the spear from Elia.

 

"Show me what you have, little she-wolf," Lady Nym spun her double daggers.

 

Arya lifted the spear, "I'll show you how lethal I can be."

 

 

 

JON

 

Daenerys, Aegon, and Connington were discussing something related to land redistribution in the Storm Lands and the Western Lands. He had been ignoring them ever since they started. He was only sitting there to avoid a discussion with Connington, but it wouldn't make any difference if he were somewhere else.

 

 _If they are going to keep ignoring everything I say, they should allow me to return to the North, already._ That was the Kingdom that required their attention.

 

Apparently, they thought that the fact that the northerners had offered him the rule of Winterfell solved the issue. They only wanted to know they would have control over the place but had not even cared enough to ask him about the situation there. And that was without considering the White Walkers.

 

He had expressed his concerns about the Others to Cyara, and she had told him that nothing had changed yet. Apparently, the raven would send a message if something went wrong. There was nothing left to do, but trust her word.

 

He directed his attention to her. She was leaning on the wall beside the door. Unlike Jon, she was paying attention to every word the council was pronouncing. Furthermore, she looked like she wanted to intervene. It was strange to see her showing interest for something. Now that he thought about it, she had been acting strange ever since he recovered. No, in her case, it would be acting more normal. She was still very silent, but she had been showing more emotion. Like in the morning when they went to the Sept. She had looked sad when she saw Tommen and Myrcella, and somehow, he knew it had been genuine.

 

 _Time can change things a lot._ They had been away a good amount of time after she returned to Storm's End with Arya.

 

The door opened abruptly. Ser Barristan and Cyara held their guard until they identified the man as a member of the Golden Company. His tunic's sleeves had blood on it.

 

"Your Graces," his eyes were impossibly widened, "Petyr Baelish is dead."

 

 _What?_ Jon prayed it had not been a northerner's doing.

 

"Where is Arya Stark?" Daenerys demanded to know.

 

Jon turned to her immediately.

 

"Are you insinuating it was Arya?"

 

"Calm down," Connington stopped their dispute. "I want to know what happened first."

 

"I wasn't there when it happened, but I heard he fell from the top of the stairs that conducted to his chambers."

 

"Sounds like an accident to me," he said trying to remain calm.

 

"Faceless Assassins are famous for making murders look like accidents. I demand to see Arya Stark. Go for her, Ser."

 

"That won't be necessary," Cyara had stopped the knight, "if the Queen wants to see Arya, I'll bring her. Perhaps you could bring someone who witnessed what happened, Ser." The man nodded.

 

 _Could it be that she spared Baelish just to force Arya to kill him?_ He considered while they waited. Daenerys sounded like she had been waiting for it to happen that way.

 

Cyara entered with Arya behind her. One of the guards Daenerys had assigned to custody Baelish arrived an instant later.

 

"What happened, Ser?"

 

"Lord Baelish was directing to his chambers. He had just got to the last step of the stairs when a black cat appeared out of nowhere and attacked him. One of the stones of the steps had loosened, so he lost his balance and fell back. He broke his neck and his brains ended scattered on the floor." The man was nervously staring at Daenerys, waiting for her approval.

 

"Is it possible that someone had pushed him?"

 

 _Where is she trying to get? What else does she want to hear?_ He looked at Arya; she was very calm. It was weird, he would have expected for her to be shouting it had not been her. Could it be that she actually did it? He had to accept she had the means to do it, no matter what he wanted to think about her.

 

"I... Your Grace, it was the cat. No one pushed him."

 

Daenerys narrowed her eyes before asking, "When did that happen?"

 

"Half an hour ago, maybe, Your Grace."

 

Daenerys turned to Arya, "And where were you, Lady Arya, half an hour ago?"

 

"At the outer yard, Your Grace," Arya was holding Daenerys's stare.

 

"Is there someone who can confirm this?"

 

"There is," Arya smiled, "the Sand Snakes. I have been sparring with them since noon, Your Grace."

 

Jon sighed in relief when the Sand Snakes confirmed what Arya had already said, and Daenerys relented. The council session didn't continue after the interruption. He was the first to leave.

 

Jon wanted to speak with Arya, but she disappeared along with the Sand Snakes, more likely to continue their training or go cause some trouble somewhere else. At least she had been set free from Daenerys accusations regarding Baelish's death.

 

 _How am I supposed to feel about this?_ He had wanted to sentence the man to death, but now that he was no more, he didn't feel relief nor like he had gained something from his death.

 

"Aegon is coming after you," Cyara's voice extracted him from his contemplations.

 

He stopped and breathed before turning to face Aegon. He couldn't keep avoiding him forever.

 

"Jon, I know you are angry at Dany for suspecting your sister, but Arya had reasons to do it... and the means."

 

 _So you share the opinion._ He had expected Aegon to think oppositely. _Even if he's my brother, we're more different than I thought._ He was getting tired of their clash of opinions.

 

"She had reasons, just as any inhabitant of the Vale of the North, but she did not do it. She's not the person Daenerys think she is."

 

"She isn't the person you think she is either," his expression shifted to anger. "You keep judging us from your honorable perspective, but you ignore what's just in front of your eyes. You didn't see her that night, all the persons she killed, what she was about to do. And you assume she's better than us just because she's a Stark."

 

 _What am I supposed to do?_ He was not blind; he knew there was something wrong with Arya. He had seen it the day Baelish's told them about Sansa, but it wasn't her fault. What Arya had become was the result of the actions of people who had used power to protect their own interests, instead of the interests of the Realm as they were ought to. The decisions they had made during the trials made him think that they, him included, were not different. That was intolerable. _How many Aryas is this reign going to create?_

 

"If you believe I'm judging you based on a family name, you're mistaken."

 

"Then explain to me what it is about."

 

"I've been trying, but you refuse to listen, and frankly, I'm tired of it," right now, he couldn't stand the sight of Aegon. "If you excuse me, I've got an appointment with your cousin, and I believe you have one with Margaery Tyrell. We'll have to leave this for later." He didn't give time for Aegon to answer.

 

He made a stop to change his clothes and wash his face, trying to delay the meeting with the dornish princess. He didn't believe it was the right time to speak about marriage prospects. He didn't want to risk insulting the princess because he wasn't in the mood to speak with anyone, but he had run out of excuses. Connington had become impossibly insistent about the matter.

 

 _As if waiting a bit more would make a difference,_ he ran a hand through his hair and walked past the solar to open the door. Cyara stopped him from doing that.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

"I won't let you get out of here until you change that face. You look as if you were going to attend a funeral, not meet your intended."

 

"How do you know about that?" It was not official; no one was supposed to know.

 

She cocked her head and gave him a meaningful look, "You told me it was a possibility the day you woke up, and half of the castle knows already. I was there the day Connington asked Tyrion his opinion about the match. Both of them agreed it was an excellent option."

 

 _I'm a mere puppet in Connington's plans._ He had no idea of that discussion.

 

"And what do you think about it?"

 

She looked surprised at the question first but scowled almost immediately, "Why would you ask me that?"

 

 _Indeed, why would I ask her opinion about something like my betrothal?_ He couldn't think of someone who would be less interested in the matter than Cyara.

 

"It's just, I'm not sure about it."

 

"That is exactly why you are going to meet her today, isn't it? To make sure."

 

 _Pretty logic,_ he nodded and moved to open the door again. He got the same result as the last time he tried.

 

"What now?!"

 

"You still have that _world is about to end_ face."

 

"What am I supposed to do about that? It's not like I can get rid of my face," before realizing, Cyara was stretching his cheeks. He was so astonished that he just stood still staring at her until she was done.

 

"Feeling more like smiling?"

 

"Not at all," he said as he rubbed his face with both hands.

 

"Better stunned than melancholic," she said with a faint smile. This time she opened the door to let him pass.

 

 _What's going on with her?_ There was no doubt, something had changed, but he couldn't grasp what it was.

 

A dornish guard received them at the princess's door.

 

"Princess Arianne is waiting to receive you, Prince Jon," Jon frowned at the word, but the guard didn't seem to notice. "She wants to speak with the Lady as well," he added.

 

Arianne Martell was waiting for them sitting on a lounger with a goblet in her hand. She was wearing an elegant dress of yellow silk, one way too light for winter.

 

"Welcome," She stood up and ran to take Cyara's hands in hers. "I wish we could have talked before, but this place is horrible mess between trials and council meetings. And, of course, I was busy taking care of my cousin." She was directing her attention only to Cyara; the last of them looked pretty uncomfortable

 

"I was glad to hear Obara Sand was out of danger, princess."

 

"Oh yes, she's almost fully recovered by now. It's all thanks to you, of course."

 

"I didn't do anything."

 

"You did, Elia told me that if not for you, that monster would have finished Obara. Plus, there's the fact that you guided my dornish here safely. We're indebted to you, ask for whatever you want and I shall grant it."

 

"Princess, I didn't do it to get something in exchange."

 

"Such a humble person. I insist you should think about it."

 

"Thank you, princess."

 

Arianne Martell smiled to Cyara and turned to him, "My prince, I think we have something to discuss." She took his hand and guided him to sit on the lounger beside her before pouring him some wine.

 

"Please don't call me prince," he asked as he took the goblet from her hands.

 

"How should I call you then? Ice Dragon?"

 

"That's even worse, princess. Jon is enough."

 

The princess started to laugh. "You are the only person I know that considers the title an insult," she gave him an intriguing smile as if she knew something he did not.

 

"It's not that I think of it as an insult. I don't think I'll ever get used to it, princess."

 

"I guess it's something understandable," she paused and made a pout. "And you should stop calling me princess as well. It's quite impersonal don't you think? Call me Arianne," she got closer to him, and he perceived the scent of flowers emanating from her. "We might become more intimate soon, am I right?"

 

He felt a known sensation, one he had not felt ever since he parted from Ygritte. He remembered they were not alone and turned to the spot where he had seen Cyara the last time. She was not there, at some point she had left the room without a single sound.

 

"She's very smart. I've known few servants who are capable to know what it's required of them without receiving orders."

 

"She's not my servant; she's -" he didn't know how to finish his sentence. "More like a friend, I guess," he decided in the end.

 

"I'm sorry; I meant no offense towards her."

 

"You don't need to apologize, Arianne."

 

She smiled when he said her name. "Perhaps you could tell me how you met one day. For now let's focus in that which we're supposed to be discussing."

 

She made a move to place her hair behind her shoulder, and he swallowed hard; the yellow silk showed too much cleavage. He hid his embarrassment behind the goblet. When he had calmed a little, he decided to speak.

 

"Forgive me if my question seems too straightforward, but I'm afraid I do not know any other way to express myself. Do you truly agree to this match, Arianne?"

 

"An alliance between the North and Dorne has never been seen before. I think it's a great opportunity for both of us."

 

"No, I'm not referring to that," he shook his head. "Beyond politics, I mean, what happened to Elia Martell... I would understand if your family held some kind grudge against me."

 

She remained speechless for an instant. "I believed Aegon would have already told you. We don't think what happened to Elia was your fault; my father wouldn't have suggested the match if he thought wrong of you."

 

"What about the rest of your family?"

 

"If what worries you is the reaction of the Sand Snakes," she chuckled, "which I would understand, you don't have to. You gained an important part of their respect when you killed that thing. Plus, they like your sister a lot; they find her very amusing. 'A dornish woman who was born in the wrong Kingdom.' Obara said when I inquired about her."

 

Jon smiled at the thought; he was glad Arya had found someone who understood her rather than judge her for the things she did. He hoped it could help her to return to be the girl she had been.

 

"Arya loves to spend time with them as well," he remembered Baelish's issue. "They helped her to dismiss Daenerys accusations, today. Maybe you could thank them on my behalf."

 

"Perhaps you could thank them yourself," she leaned forward and took his hand. "We could have lunch together, us, my brother, my cousins, and your sister."

 

"Arya would like that."

 

"What about you, Jon? Would you like it?" Arianne traced the line of his jaw with her fingers. "I can still feel uncertainty coming from your words."

 

"I'm wondering if this marriage is something that would make you happy," he confessed.

 

"You are so gallant," her mouth was one breath away from his. "Perhaps we might give it a try to know if it can make _us_ happy."

 

His astonishment, when he felt her full lips against his, didn't last. He had not imagined that he would miss that type of contact; it felt incredibly good. Her mouth opened to receive his, and he buried his hand in her dark curls to bring her closer. They separated after an undeterminable amount of time, panting.

 

"And Aegon told me you were shy," she said holding his gaze with her dark eyes full of desire.

 

"Aegon can be mistaken," he answered still trying to regain his breath.

 

"I'm so glad that he was."

 

She leaned forward to kiss him again. He could feel her hands undoing the buttons of his doublet. He took her shoulders to separate from her. Her skin was so soft and so warm that he almost regretted it. She gave him a puzzled look.

 

"This is not right, Arianne."

 

"Are you still uncertain?" she arched a brow.

 

"No, but I don't think we should be doing this. Not now."

 

"What's wrong about it? We're going to get married, aren't we?" She was over him once more, her hands dangerously ascending over his thighs. "What does it matter if we move forward to the bedding?"

 

 _Indeed, this would be the minimum of my sins._ Besides, his body was craving for it.

 

It didn't happen. There was a strange knock on the door.

 

"Prince Trystane, the princess can't receive right now." They heard the guard.

 

"Ser, I've been secluded in my room the whole day. At least allow me to visit my sister before I go mad."

 

"Looks like we'll have to leave this for another occasion," she gave him a chaste kiss before tidying her hair. "A storm is about to enter through the door," Arianne stood up and directed to open the door herself; he followed her. "Trys, you have interrupted an important meeting, this better be relevant."

 

"I'm bored, and it's your entire fault, Arianne, you better take responsibility for it," The prince regarded him and gaped like he wanted to say something but repented almost immediately.

 

"Where are your manners, Trys?"

 

"I'm sorry, Prince Jon, I didn't mean to interrupt."

 

"You didn't. I wouldn't dare to steal the precious time you spend with your sister," he looked at Arianne. "Excuse me," he said before crossing the door.

 

"How did it go?" Cyara asked when they were far enough from Arianne's chambers.

 

"It went well; I think." He expected his face wasn't showing his previous fervor.

 

 _I would like to get to know her better._ What he had felt back then was nothing more than desire. _It's better than not feeling anything at all, I guess._

 

 _'You know nothing, Jon Snow._ ' He wondered if he would have to live with Ygritte's memory forever.

 

"You should go to rest," he told Cyara when they made it to his room. "A northerner will arrive anytime."

 

"Before that, I was wondering if you could grant me a couple of minutes," she looked quite... nervous? That was odd.

 

_And what's with the formal treatment?_

 

"I have nothing else to do today."

 

They sat on the table. She took something out from the sporran she was always carrying and put it on the table. It was a bunch of parchments tied with thread.

 

"I think you should have this."

 

"What is this?" He untied the thread and started to look at the contents of the parchments. His eyes went wide. "This - "

 

"It's the work of my life," she nodded, "I think it's accurate to call it that way. The drawings were made by the children of the forest, but the notes and the descriptions are mine."

 

He was out of words. The parchments had detailed descriptions of the wights and other creatures, the routes they followed to move from one place to another, and the necessary measures to contain them.

 

"You have visited the lands of always winter?!"

 

"I have, although I didn't make it too far. They discovered me almost immediately."

 

"Wait. Why are you giving me this?" he lifted his head to see her. "Why now?" He had the feeling he wouldn't like the answer.

 

"I didn't do it when we met because I didn't want to waste my efforts on someone I didn't believe in."

 

"You said -"

 

 _You deceived me._ He felt incredibly betrayed.

 

"I know what I said. I was following orders," she lowered her eyes to stare at the table. "Back then I didn't care for anything aside from ending this. I just wanted you to do what the raven wanted so that he would give me some peace," she raised her stare to meet his and for a moment, he thought she would cry. "But I swear it's not like that anymore. I... I feel so ashamed for deceiving you."

 

 _So that was it._ That was what had changed. He should be mad at her, but if anything, it had been the raven who had dragged them into that situation.

 

"If you have changed your mind, then there was no reason for you to confess this," he gave a bitter laugh. "I had fallen completely for it."

 

"Don’t laugh, it’s not like I’m proud of it,” she rested her forehead on her hand. “Connington offered me a white cloak, and I accepted it."

 

"Does that mean -?"

 

"It means I won't return to the North."

 

"Are you planning to run away after what you have just told me? You should take responsibility for it."

 

 _What am I saying? I should just let her do whatever she wants._ Forcing her to stay wouldn’t be different to what the raven had done.

 

"Look where we are; I failed miserably to do what I was supposed to do. I promised you dragons and all you got were difficulties."

 

"You gave me back the most important part of my life." That at least was the truth. He reached for her hand, and she snatched it away immediately.

 

She shook her head. "If you found Arya was because you insisted we should take the dragons the right way."

 

"Then this mess is my fault. You have done a lot of things for me. It's not like I want you to get away because of what you just told me." He couldn't understand his reluctance to allow her to leave.

 

"There's nothing else I can do for your sake," she said with a hurt expression.

 

 _Maybe we're just damaging each other._ Considering the way things had started there was no other way for them to occur.

 

"Is it really what you want?" He inquired in the end.

 

"It better is."

 

"Then I have no reason to stop you."

 

She nodded and left. He stayed on the table staring at the papers. It was depressing to think _that_ would be the only thing remaining from her when he returned to the North.

 

 

 

CYARA

 

She lingered in front of the door after she closed it; she wasn’t sure where she should go.

 

 _'Are you planning to run away after what you have just told me?'_ There was accuracy in those words, yet, so was in hers.

 

She had not liked the idea of abandoning him, especially considering she had lied to him at the beginning. But soon enough, what Brynden had given her would fade away and she would not represent any advantage for the war against the Others anymore. And didn't she have the right to act to protect herself?

 

 _It would be a torment to prolong this situation._ Cyara could have gathered her courage and tell Jon about her feelings, but there was no way for that to end well. If he rejected her, she would take her distance. A very similar result to what had just happened. On the other hand, if Jon were to return her feelings, both of them would only suffer from it. Jon wouldn't want to emulate his dragon father, and marry Arianne Martell after all. That wouldn't be fair for the princess either.

 

Neither was silently remaining by his side an option. She would have to stand to see him with the princess every day. Besides, despite the gentle way Arianne Martell treated her, there was no way she would willingly allow Cyara to stay so close. The princess had, without a doubt, heard the false rumors about them. She would want to defend what was hers by oath, and she would be in her right to do so. The more accurate course of action was to take her distance before her feelings strengthened to a point of no return. All that had driven her to accept what Connington had proposed her.

 

Cyara had also taken other things into consideration to decide accepting the offer. Daenerys' suspicion towards Jon had not vanished; in fact, it had increased after their confrontations because of the trials. If she stayed as a Royal Guard, she might be able to know if the Queen was planning something against the Vale and the North and prevent them. Last but not least was her self-fulfilment.

 

When she arrived at the conclusion that she had to select something else for her life, she had been lost. She had spent so much time following orders and acting for the sake of others that she had not known what to do. She then tried to remember what she had wanted to do when she lived at Pentos.

 

Traveling around the world didn't seem a viable option with her limited resources. But if she entered the Royal Guard, her name would be written in the White Book. She could be remembered as the first woman to become a member of the Royal Guard, and if she worked hard enough, perhaps become Commander. The possibility was vague but not inexistent.

 

She had repeated her reasoning a hundred times to rid her doubts. Nevertheless, that did not prepare her to face the deception she saw in Jon's eyes. She felt horrible because of that.

 

_What's done is done. I made a decision, and I'll live with the consequences of it._

 

The northerner guard arrived and greeted her with a frown. She merely bowed her head and walked away from there. She didn't want to direct to the cell where she slept, so she went to the godswood instead. As much as she loathed Brynden, lately, the godswood was the only place where she could find some calm. She didn't get there.

 

She had just made it past the Sept when she crossed Aegon and Margaery Tyrell. The Silver Prince was surely escorting her back to her chambers. She bowed to them and received two gleaming smiles in return. She was about to continue her way when Aegon held her arm to make her stop. Margaery Tyrell's smile had vanished.

 

"How may I help you, Prince Aegon?"

 

"It's about my brother. The way things are between us right now; I don't like it."

 

 _We're on the same boat, Aegon,_ she would have wanted to tell him.

 

"I don't think this is the right moment. I was going to see Lord Connington," she lied, "and you clearly are busy right now." She tried to avoid Margaery Tyrell's infuriated stare.

 

"It will be just a minute," his beautiful violet eyes were pleading.

 

"Fine," she conceded. They walked further away from where the Rose of Highgarden was.

 

"The things I told Jon today, I didn't mean them," his voice was full of regret

 

"I think you should tell him that personally, Your Grace."

 

"He's too mad at me, at us. I understand he didn't like the resolutions of the trials, but I feel like I'm being forced to decide between my judgment and pleasing him," he paused and took her hands. "You understand him very well, please give me some advice."

 

_What a bad joke, now particularly._

 

"Your Grace, the last time we had a talk like this, the Queen didn't like it."

 

"I'm sorry about that. I won't let her believe you influenced my way of thinking again."

 

 _I'm going to get beheaded,_ she sighed.

 

"I don't think I can talk on your brother's behalf, Your Grace, but I can tell you my opinion based on what I've seen."

 

"I would be grateful to hear it."

 

"If you excuse me, I have the impression the decisions you make are still being influenced by the Rebellion," the prince was giving her his full attention. "It's understandable for you to be disgusted with those who wronged your family, but you can't be planning to rule over a Realm if you hold a grudge against half of its people."

 

"I feel the same way about Jon. He keeps plainly rejecting what we try to do for personal reasons."

 

"Perhaps, but he's the one who understands this Realm the most. Unlike you or the Queen, he has lived his whole life here. He was raised by a man who took part and lived the transitions of the Realm. He was part of an organization that was established to watch over the welfare of the Realm without distinctions. Jon's is the most objective opinion you will get, Your Grace."

 

"What you're saying is that he's able to see the greater picture."

 

"Of course he can make mistakes and be oblivious to some things."

 

 _The way he is with Arya._ It had been a smart move to use the cat to provoke the accident since almost no one knew about her warging abilities. Even if Baelish deserved to die, Jon wouldn't like to know it had been her doing. _One more addition to the list of lies I've told him. Not that it matters anymore._

The prince considered their talk with a frown. He finally nodded and gave her the most radiant smile she had seen him make.

 

"I think I understand him better now. I'll try to make things right with him."

 

"I hope it goes well, Your Grace."

 

"Thank you."

 

It lasted less than an instant, but the way he delayed the release of her hands, the intensity of his gaze and the way Margaery Tyrell was staring at her told her everything. She stood still watching how they got away from where she was.

 

Cyara fought the urge to pull her hair. The Silver Prince had now ruined her plans. She had to do something about it. She directed to the Tower of the Hand.

 

"Connington, I must speak with you."

 

The man nodded without looking away from the parchments he was reading.

 

"I'm listening," he prompted.

 

"I can't accept that cloak after all." That made him lift the head to regard her.

 

"I thought we had settled this conversation before, girl."

 

"This time my reasons are different."

 

"Well, I want to hear those reasons." He said arching a brow.

 

"I..." She stopped.

 

 _How am I supposed to tell him this?_ She couldn't think of a way of saying 'I believe the future King of Westeros has something going on for me.' without sounding conceited.

 

"Aegon did something that made me think..."

 

_This is absurd._

 

"He is attracted to you." He completed.

 

_What?_

 

"Did you know?" She couldn't be more astonished.

 

"Contrary to what he may think, I know him better than anyone else. Maybe, even better than himself," he looked directly into her eyes, "I've been aware of it for quite a long time."

 

"But..." She was only blabbering nonsenses. "Then, why? You have been warning him endlessly about Arya." Connington sighed exasperated.

 

"I thought you were smarter, girl." She didn't answer, so he continued, "I raised him. I knew that if I were to forbid him to be close to you, he would become more stubborn about the matter. Arya Stark was my excuse to keep reminding him not to be stupid. And I knew almost immediately that you would never follow his lead."

 

_You're a lovely man, Connington._

 

"That's why you want me to stay here, isn't it? That way I will stay at a convenient distance from him." There was nothing she hated more than being used to meet other's purposes.

 

"That's only part of the reason." He admitted.

 

 

 _Idiot._ She had believed him when he told her he trusted her to be part of the Royal Guard.

 

"Are you going to quit?" He inquired.

 

She reflected for an instant. Acknowledgment had not been the only reason she had had to make her choice.

 

"No. I have already given my word."

 

"I knew you were reasonable."

 

"Excuse me then, Lord Hand," she said with disdain. When she reached the door, he told her one last thing.

 

"I believe it's unnecessary to tell you this, but don't change your treatment towards him. He would suspect." He returned to his parchments.

 

"As you wish, Lord Hand."

 

As she made her way back to her cell, she couldn't stop her hands from shaking. She felt humiliated, infuriated, and she could do nothing about it without causing a fuss.

 

Tyrion had been right. In the Red Keep existed only two kinds of people, pieces and players. Cyara had become part of the first group.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finally decided that this story will have 60 chapters (way to go), so we have officially reached the third part of the story. The length of the chapters will be longer or shorter depending on what I have planned for each one of them.
> 
> Next chapter: "The colors of the Rose"


	21. The Colors of the Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for leaving comments. Just as some wait for the next chapter, I eagerly wait to read your comments. They make me want to be able to write everything in one go to answer your questions and guesses. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and enjoy the chapter.

 

 

SANSA

 

She was staring through the window of her chamber, as she had done so many times when she was a dreamy idiot girl. The landscape was radically different from the one she had seen the first time she had looked through a window from the Red keep.

 

 _Different as summer is from winter. Different as I am from that Sansa._ She had lost something irreplaceable the moment she had fully entered the Game, maybe before that, but she had not noticed until then. _Perhaps since Lady died._

 

If she had been the same, she would have considered the sight breathtaking. But it had been a long time since she last stopped to appreciate the beauty of anything. The only thing she could see now was her next objective, her next course of action. And given the looming clash between the dragons, she had to make her next move soon.

 

The thing was, she was not sure what she was ought to do now. She had had plans for the lions until Cersei ruined everything. Sansa had lost two pieces for good, and the Lannister brothers were not in the mental state to be useful to her. _Maybe later._

 

 _At least Petyr is no more. I would thank Arya, but I would only receive a scowl in exchange._ She had heard the stories regarding the Faceless Assassins, but she had not fully understood the extent of their abilities. Sansa didn't know how Arya had done it so perfectly, but she had been unbelievably efficient. _I will have to take care of not wronging her if I don't want to be the next._

 

"Lady Sansa," her handmaid had arrived to prepare her for the day.

 

Sansa patiently waited until the woman was done adjusting the green gown. An accurate color to visit Margaery. She sat in front of the dresser for the woman to brush her hair and a little girl she had adopted as cupbearer entered. Silene curtsied and took her hand playfully, she didn't have more than six years, but she was already smarter than most children.

 

"Milady's breakfast is ready."

 

"Thank you Silene, I'll go immediately," she answered as she hid the letter the girl had handed her in her sleeve.

 

After her meal, she waited until the handmaid and Silene had left to open the message. She read the contents twice to make sure she wasn't overlooking anything before burning it.

 

 _Things finally start to work in our favor,_ she thought. Sansa allowed herself a slight smile; she was ready for her following move.

 

"Is that the letter of an admirer? I thought your heart belonged exclusively to me," Harry was standing near the door.

 

 _You thought Winterfell belonged to you._ She stood and threw the parchment to the chimney. _That handmaid can start to look for another Lady to serve._

 

"It belongs exclusively to you, Harry," she had turned to face him.

 

"It's considerably suspicious that you got rid of the letter," Harry said before kissing her hand. "Tell me the name of the man who sent that letter and I'll challenge him for your hand."

 

 _What a stupidity._ On another time, she would have considered the idea of two knights dueling for her love stirring.

 

"Are you jealous of a piece of paper, Harry?"

 

"I'm jealous of the owner of that paper if his words can make you smile."

 

_You have no idea._

 

"His words," she chuckled. "Harry, you're envious of Margaery Tyrell. She invited me to spend the day with her and her companions."

 

"If that's the case, why would you destroy the evidence?" He had pulled her closer to him.

 

"Perhaps, I like to keep you engaged, Harry," Sansa caressed his face.

 

"There's no way for me to lose interest in you, Sansa," He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before kissing her.

 

Sansa pushed him away from her, "Harry, you know you shouldn't be here. We shouldn't see each other until my marriage to Tyrion is invalidated."

 

"I'm tired of waiting. I want all of them to know that you will be my wife."

 

"I want the same, Harry, but we should do things the right way."

 

"Fine," he made a face. "I would do anything for my Rose of Winterfell. Would you at least allow me to escort you to Lady Margaery?"

 

"I think we can afford to take that chance, Harry," she smiled and took his arm. She had to show some foolishness from time to time.

 

Harry escorted her to the Maidenvault and parted from her kissing her hand. The Tyrell guards greeted her and opened the door that lead to the hall. As expected, Margaery ran to receive her personally.

 

"Sansa! We have missed you so much."

 

"I missed your company as well, Margaery, but with all the things that have happened in the Keep..."

 

"I know, I know, it's been horrible, isn't it?" Margaery covered her mouth with her hands. "My poor Tommen, he didn't deserve what happened to him."

 

 _You should be smiling, now you're free for the Silver Prince._ It had not even been a fortnight, and she was already strolling with Aegon Targaryen.

 

"He was a sweet boy and Myrcella was my friend," Sansa said. Margaery took her hand to reassure her.

 

"I know, we can't change that, but we can start to build a better future," Margaery pulled her to the table where the flock of hens was.

 

"Is your Lady Grandmother coming back to the capital?" she asked as she put a lemon cake on her plate. "I'd love to see her again; she was always kind to me."

 

_I yearn for the opportunity to return her kindness._

"She will, but she won't make it in time for the great feast."

 

 _Excellent._ The Queen of Thorns was smart enough to make things difficult for her. Sansa needed her to be out of the Game until she had settled everything in place. _First I have to make sure that idiot doesn't get into the Kingsguard._

 

"I see,” she paused. “Margaery, I know we had other plans, but today they will assess the knights. I was wondering if we could watch," she gave a nervous smile; "I'd like to see Ser Loras sparring."

 

Two names were official and Loras and Cyara remained unannounced, but they had to designate another three white cloaks before the end of the moon. On Margaery's suggestion, they had made an event out of it. During the next week, Ser Barristan and Ser Duck would test the abilities of the pretenders.

 

"I had completely forgotten about that! We must go!"

 

They selected one of the best spots on the stands and sat to observe how dozens of knights made their best to win a place among the legendary Seven Knights. Jon was also watching the event with the dornish princess by his side. Every time he commented something, Arianne Martell smiled to him.

 

_Such a shame, they look good together._

 

"There is my brother," Margaery stood and waved to him. "Loras!"

 

The knight of flowers was no longer what Sansa remembered. The awful battle to recover Dragon Stone had taken its toll on him. He looked older than his nineteen years, and the boiling oil had spoiled his handsome face. Sansa felt nearly sad for him.

 

"Sister, Lady Sansa, it is inspiring to have you here."

 

"You're most kind, Ser Loras."

 

"What are those doing here, Loras?" Margaery pointed towards the Sand Snakes. Apparently, all Highgarden spurned whatever that was related slightly to Oberyn Martell.

 

"The Sand Snakes? Ser Barristan requested their help to test the speed of the knights. None of them uses armor, so they can be brutally fast, especially the one with the daggers," he shrugged. "Some say that if Obara Sand weren't injured, she would be competing for a white cloak."

 

"A woman in the Kingsguard? Don't be absurd, Loras."

 

"I'm serious. I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but they have already given a place to the Winter Maiden."

 

Sansa had to hide the amusement Margaery's face produced her with feigned shock.

 

"But she's a woman and a wildling, how can they consider her?" Sansa asked with faked innocence.

 

"She outsmarted Victarion Greyjoy in single combat and stopped a Faceless Assassin at Storm's End. Seems she's quite skilled," Loras turned to observe the fuss behind him. "I have to go back, Ladies," he walked away from them.

 

"This has nothing to do with her skills," Margaery was clenching her fists so hard that her nails would leave marks on her palms. "Aegon wants to keep her near."

 

"I've heard the gossip, but I don't think the Silver Prince has a relationship with her. Why would he if you're going to be his Queen?"

 

"You didn't see how he smiled at her, Sansa," she gave her a look that told Sansa she considered her retarded.

 

"The Silver Prince is very gentle; he smiles to everyone."

 

"Not the way he smiled at her. I'm not going to tolerate this."

 

"Are you going to tell the Queen?"

 

"I don't think we should bother the Queen with trivial matters if I can solve this peacefully," Margaery had recovered some of her control. "We shall invite her to have supper with us."

 

 _I wonder what comes after the peaceful method._ If Sansa had understood the basics of Cyara's personality; she wouldn't take well whatever Margaery was planning to propose her.

 

The servants had just served the second course of supper when the Winter Maiden crossed the door. She had an unusual frown on her face. She approached Margaery and bowed; she didn't seem surprised to see Sansa there.

 

"Lady Margaery, what can I do for you?" Her face made clear that she had a precise idea of the reason Margaery had summoned her.

 

"It is Cyara, right?"

 

"Yes, Lady Margaery."

 

"Sit with us, please. Have supper with us."

 

"Lady Margaery, I haven't finished my shift. I can't stay."

 

"Of course you can. I'm sure the Lord Hand will understand if you tell him you stayed under _my command."_

 

 _I thought she was able to control herself better._ For a moment, Sansa thought Cyara would answer something to Margaery.

 

"Your invitation honors me, Lady Margaery," Cyara answered with a taut tone. She sat where Margaery indicated her.

 

"I have wanted to meet you for a long time. They tell stories of you in the whole Red Keep," Margaery smiled. "I thought I had seen it all when I met the Maid of Tarth."

 

Cyara was clearly uncomfortable with the situation. It was evident that she suspected something was about to happen but didn't know how to react to it.

 

"Your remark praises me, Lady Margaery; the Maid of Tarth is admirable," she said guardedly in the end.

 

"The same can be said of you. Someone who has done so much for the Crown deserves to be rewarded."

 

Cyara shifted her gaze between Margaery and Sansa before saying, "I didn't do it for a reward, Lady Margaery."

 

 _Wrong answer._ For Margaery, it would be like saying she had done it for the sake of the Silver Prince. _Good instincts, bad player._ She could identify danger, but had obviously no idea of how to deal with it.

 

"I insist. A guard's life is not suitable for you," Margaery took her braid with tenderness and put it over her shoulder.

 

"Which kind of life would you consider suitable for me, Lady Margaery?" Cyara had reacted to the contact as if it were the most distasteful thing in the world.

 

 _A dungeon, without a doubt._ The situation was developing faster than she had intended, but it still served her purposes.

 

"A Lady's life of course. I'm sure we could find a match worthy of you."

 

"You are most generous, Lady Margaery, but I don't..."

 

"Ser Wythers, the captain of my guard, has a son," Margaery continued as if the interruption had not occurred, "Edmund Wythers is a promising knight. I'm sure he would fancy taking a wife as lovely as you."

 

"Sounds like a wonderful alternative for someone like you. I don't think you can find something better to do with your life," Sansa delivered the final stroke to Cyara's pride.

 

Sansa could see her expression darkening, "I'm grateful for your concern, Ladies," her tone had grown even more strained. "But I have other aspirations in life," she stood up. "Now, if you excuse me, I have work to do," she left.

 

"My goodness, I told Jon she was a disrespectful savage from the very beginning," she regarded Margaery. "Are you going to tell the Queen now?"

 

"As you said, she's a disrespectful savage. I still think we shouldn't bother the Dragon Queen because of her."

 

"But she rejected your generous offer."

 

 _Come on, I need her out of the Kingsguard._ Sansa was getting impatient.

 

"A mistake, indeed," Margaery sipped her wine. "She might repent of testing the limits of my benevolence," the future Queen looked satisfied by the perspective.

 

 

 

JON

 

"Did you know?"

 

"No, it is the first time I hear about it," Aegon's expression told him he was as surprised as him. "It doesn't seem like something Connington would do; he can be extremely prejudiced. He was mad at me when I named Duck because he isn't of noble birth."

 

"I wonder what he's thinking," Jon said with a pensive expression.

 

"If I had a better idea, I would tell you."

 

Jon nodded, "Fine, I believe you. What is that urgent matter you had to discuss with me?" He didn't feel comfortable in Aegon's company, and he wanted to finish their talk as fast as he could.

 

"I know our judgments have been differing and that has been a source of trouble for us," he paused and lowered his gaze. "I recognize Dany, and I have been making mistakes. The biggest one was to overlook your opinion. You know the Realm and its struggles better than we do."

 

 _What is with this sudden change of opinion?_ That was the last thing Jon was expecting to hear.

 

"You were convinced of the contrary until yesterday, Aegon. I don't get your abrupt change of perception," the answer had been quite aggressive, but with all the things that had happened during the last two weeks, he had been in a terrible mood.

 

"I talked to Cyara; what she told me made me realize my error. I want to think it helped me to understand you better, even if it is scarcely a little."

 

"She shouldn't have said anything," the last thing he wanted to learn was that she had done something in his favor, again.

 

"I was the one who asked for her advice."

 

Jon sighed, "I appreciate the acknowledgment, but honestly, I don't think it will change something at this point. Daenerys thinks everything I suggest is to discredit her or worse, to gain something," he had gotten tired of that as well.

 

"It's not easy to gain her trust, but that doesn't mean she's a bad person."

 

_For me, it looks like an impossible task to achieve._

 

"I think we had this talk back at Storm's End, Aegon. Things are not going to get better between Daenerys and me," if anything, they would get worse. "I have decided I won't intrude with the Realm's issues anymore. The only thing I care for is to return to Winterfell and find a way to defend the Wall."

 

 _I expect the dornish to be more comprehensive than Daenerys._ He had lost his hopes of taking the dragons to Castle Black, and he could only rely on the dornish spears. _I should be getting support from each one of the Seven Kingdoms, but they don't care for what is not in front of them._

 

"You're making a mistake. We need your knowledge and experience to rebuild the Realm."

 

"Daenerys doesn't want to listen to anything that comes from me," he said patiently.

 

"Then I will, tell me what you think and I'll try to make her understand."

 

 _It would be useless._ But another reflection, one that would plague him for the rest of his life, popped in his mind. He would keep wondering whether any of his words or actions could have saved Robb's life. He didn't want to have the same regret with Aegon.

 

Jon hesitated before speaking, "This must be very difficult for both of you, but I highly recommend you to grant the Storm Lords their Baratheon Lord. Legitimize Edric Storm and make peace between the stag and the dragon once and for all."

 

"The Baratheons..."

 

"Aegon, you said you would listen," he interrupted him, and Aegon nodded a little ashamed. "That boy is young, he had nothing to do with the Rebellion and his father cared little for him, but the Storm Lords love him."

 

"What if the Storm Lords use him to start a Rebellion?" Aegon was clearly uncertain.

 

"As things are, no one wants to start another senseless war. However, if you keep denying them this, they might decide to follow Stannis. He is the one who could become a trouble for you."

 

"And how should we deal with Stannis?"

 

 _Only Stannis lent a hand to the Watch,_ he reflected. Jon didn't fancy the idea of him getting condemned because he had chosen to support his brother during the Rebellion. He understood how difficult was to make a decision like that, and they had forgiven Jaime Lannister for something way more serious. _If he sets his pride aside, I could give him the Dreadfort after we capture the Boltons._

"If you allow me, I would deal with him."

 

"You are not planning to condemn him," Aegon frowned.

 

"No," he paused. They had reached a difficult part. "Listen, Aegon, we started something the day we spared Baelish. That action forced us to forgive Jaime Lannister. Now, we can't condemn others, like Stannis, for similar crimes."

 

"What you've just said is also related to the Land redistribution, isn't it?" Realization had made its way into Aegon's head.

 

Jon assented, "I get the men from the Golden Company have to be rewarded for their actions, but we can't give them lands confiscated from other Lords when we gave Jaime Lannister Casterly Rock. It would be unethical."

 

"We made quite a mess, didn't we?" Aegon hid his face between his hands.

 

"You can still reward them. There were castles and lands that lost their Lord during the War of the Five Kings. You could also send some to the North, but I doubt they would like the weather."

 

 _A dream for spring,_ he remembered Ned Stark's words. _But winter has hardly started, and I might need those lands for the free folk._ The thought made him feel distressed. He wanted to forget about King's Landing, but the North didn't offer a better panorama. He had to convince the Lords, the Watch, and the free folk to cooperate if they wanted to survive. _Perhaps is time to bring Sam back; I'm going to need everything he has learnt at the Citadel._

 

"What?" he had gotten too concentrated in his thoughts and Aegon was intensely watching him.

 

"Don't you want to be the King?"

 

"That is a disgusting jest, Aegon," Jon reacted instantly. He felt his anger returning to him.

 

"It was not a jest," Aegon answered quickly before leaning his head against the back of the chair and giving a deep breath. "Supposedly, they educated me to be a great King, yet I don't feel I'm walking the right direction at all. You," he fixed his violet eyes on him," on the other hand, always know how to act. It's like you possess wisdom I have no chances to attain. "

 

"Aegon," Jon wasn't sure of what he should say to him. Aegon was supposed to be the confident one. "It's not that I'm wise. I just had exceptional guidance."

 

"The fabulous Eddard Stark," he laughed bitterly, "those Lannisters truly took away the best of the Realm."

 

"That's not it. I also received Targaryen instruction," that might cheer Aegon. He wondered when the conversation had taken such a twist.

 

"Now you're making bad jokes," Aegon had a disconcerted look on his face.

 

"I'm serious. There are not only rapists, criminals and bastards at the Wall; there are dragons as well. There were," he corrected.

 

"A Targaryen?" Aegon's eyes were impossibly wide.

 

"Aemon Targaryen, brother of the previous Aegon and the wisest man I've ever met," for some reason, he felt sad when he said his name.

 

"What do you think he would tell me if he were here?"

 

 _'Kill the boy and let the man be born.'_ was the first thing that darted in his head, but he decided he would save that one for the day Aegon got crowned. Maybe the Maester could tell him himself.

 

" _You will have little joy of your command, but I think you have the strength in you to do the things that must be done._ That's what he told me after I became Lord Commander."

 

Aegon's eyes were sparkling, "I wish I could meet him." he said with a smile. "Maybe I should go to the Wall with you."

 

 _Perhaps,_ Jon considered for a moment. If Aegon were to witness, first hand, the state of the North, Jon could get more support. _But that's not going to happen; Connington and Daenerys won't permit him to go._

 

"You wouldn't have to go to the Wall. I sent him back to Oldtown to keep him safe."

 

"I must go there then."

 

"I think meeting you would make him happy." The Maester had always longed for what he had thought lost.

 

Aegon nodded and fixed his stare on him again, "Does this mean we are good now?"

 

"You sound like a scolded child," Jon pondered his reply for an instant. "We all make mistakes, Aegon, and given the situation we're in, this sort of argument is more likely to happen again than not."

 

"You're incredibly pessimistic," he smiled yet again. "Can I assume then that you will keep presiding the trials and assisting Council meetings?"

 

"No," he had reached a resolution. "I don't want to do any of those again." He saw Aegon's expression reverting to disappointment. "I'm not saying I won't share my mind with you if you want to know my opinion though."

 

"You're so hard to deal with, Jon."

 

"You say that because you don't have to deal with yourself, Aegon."

 

Aegon laughed, and he couldn't repress his smirk. He had not wanted to create a rift between him and Aegon in the first place. Once he finally returned to the North, they might not see each other again.

 

The door opened, and Rolly entered to announce it was time for Aegon to attend the Small Council meeting. He still wasn't able to fight, but he had mostly recovered from his wounds.

 

"The Queen would like to see you too, Jon," the knight informed.

 

 _I wonder what she wants._ It wasn't something delightful to hear.

 

Daenerys was already in the Small Council Hall with her flashy guard when they got there.

 

"Jon, are you convinced you don't want to keep leading the trials with us?" She asked after he entered the room.

 

"I've decided it is useless to deal with the court since I'll be returning North shortly."

 

"Of course, that is the place that requires you the most," Daenerys sipped her wine. "But I was wondering if you had plans until that day comes?"

 

Jon didn't know where she was trying to get, but he did his best to hide his wariness.

 

"Only my meetings with the Lords of the Vale and the North."

 

Jon had been working hard to convince the Vale to send some supplies to the North. After all, they were still strong, and Sansa was going to be their Lady so they couldn't plainly refuse. He would have to practice something similar with the dornish after the deal with Dorne became official.

 

"Then would you allow me to assign you a task?"

 

"If it's within my possibilities, I'll do it." Refusing would only cause more trouble.

 

Daenerys nodded approvingly. "As you may know, there has been some uneasiness within the city since the battle," she tapped the table with her fingers before releasing a weak expiration. "We trusted the commander of the Golden Company to deal with this, but he has been ineffective. No, he has somehow worsened the situation."

 

"You want me to deal with _that_ situation?" He said with incredulity.

 

"I do. You don't want to handle the Lords at court. I respect that, but it doesn't mean you are free from your responsibilities as a member of the Royal family," she looked straight at him. "If we make the rest of the city wait until the trials end, this situation will get out of our hands."

 

"Are you sure you want me to do this?"

 

"We've had trouble finding a middle point for our opinions. While I don't think it's accurate for the court, your straightforwardness will be useful to solve the problems with the common people."

 

"I'll start right away," he granted.

 

"I wouldn't have expected less from you, nephew. I await positive reports from you."

 

Before he left, Aegon wished him good luck.

 

 _Maybe what she expects is that a starving mob gets rid of me._ He hadn't wanted to believe the whispers of the lords, but it was becoming feasible that his presence was a vexation for Daenerys. _It will end once I get out of here, although I wonder when that will be._

 

He met with the members of the Golden Company responsible for keeping peace within the city at the entrance of the Keep. The arrangement of the guard's shifts had put him in the awkward situation of having Cyara guarding him that day. They had not spoken ever since she had told him about the Royal Guard and did not do it then.

 

He got to the King's Square to find an enormous amount of people waiting for him. Presumably, word had spread among the citizens that a member of the Royal family would hear their grievances. They weren't satisfied to see him.

 

 _I'm not the dragon they were expecting._ He sighed and climbed the platform they had built for the occasion.

 

"You're in the presence of Jon Targaryen, Prince of Summerhall." One of the guards announced to the crowd.

 

"Where's the Dragon Queen?!" someone among the people shouted.

 

He cleared his throat, "Queen Daenerys is occupied solving critical matters for the Realm. She sent me here to hear you in her place."

 

"She sent a bastard!"

 

"We want to see the Queen!"

 

"Bastard Prince!"

 

The crowd kept shouting that sort of things. Their fury was increasing.

 

 _What have Strickland and his men been doing?_ The dissent of the people was his making; he had no doubt. Jon was trying to decide how he was going to start when something hit him in the face; it reeked. The multitude had gone silent; their fury had transformed into fear. _No wonder Daenerys didn't come herself._

 

"No one leaves the place and I want to see the one who threw the projectile, sergeant." He stopped Dick Cole, "I want him unharmed."

 

Cyara silently passed him a cloth, and he cleaned himself the best he could. Jon stared at the crowd; they were staring back at him, fearful and wary of the soldiers. _Do they think I'm going to react against them? They truly have an awful image of us._

 

"I will need a seat for him," he ordered when the man was brought to him. "What's your name?" he asked once he sat.

 

"Angus," the man voice was trembling as much as his body.

 

"Angus, you were brave enough to throw a cowpat at me," Jon spoke loud enough for the crowd to hear him. "I believe you can use the same courage to explain me the causes of your discontent." Jon regarded the crowd as he pronounced the last words.

 

The man gaped at him and gave a nervous stare to the men of the Golden Company. _Seems like his courage has dissipated._

 

"Forget about the soldiers. If they are guilty of anything, I'll see them be punished. You have my word."

 

Minutes later, the man finally decided to speak. That eventually persuaded other members of the crowd to present their accusations. Combined with the scarcity of provisions, and the damages caused during the battle, some soldiers had been trading _protection_ and resources for silver and other _favors_.

 

"Why weren't we informed about this, sergeant?"

 

"Your Grace, most of the men who performed the actions have the protection of Commander Strickland. The others are Storm Crows and..."

 

 _They believe they are untouchable because their Captain shares the Queen's bed._ He had never judged Daenerys for bedding the sellsword; she was free to do whatever she wanted. But that didn't give those men the right to bother the common folk. _I'll have to make Connington relieve Strickland from his position._ The man was the reason they had not heard a single word about the restlessness of the people until then.

 

"From now on, you'll denounce every man who commits a crime against the people, sergeant. If Strickland has some complaint against that, he can tell me personally; the same goes for the Storm Crows. Understood?"

 

"Yes, Your Grace."

 

"Now go and bring me these men," he had made a list with the names the people had mentioned. It might take the whole day, but he was going to correct the situation.

 

Hours of allegations ended with dozens of imprisoned soldiers and the execution of five who had been found guilty of rape or murder or both. Soldiers and common folk had been shocked when he didn't call the Queen's justice to perform the task. With some luck that would make the rest of the soldiers think twice before bothering the citizens again.

 

"This is Sergeant Dick Cole," he directed to the now wordless crowd. "If the soldiers cause you trouble again, you'll present your complaints to his men and he will deliver the message to the Reed Keep. I'll discuss your requests regarding food and the reconstruction of the city with the Queen and return to inform you about her decisions myself."

 

The multitude was incredulously staring at him.

 

"I'll keep coming as frequently as I can to make sure the orders are being fulfilled by the soldiers."

 

 _That is until I have to leave, but surely Aegon will take care of it,_ he thought as he watched how the crowd dispersed between murmurs and side looks.

 

"You stink," Cyara mentioned when they were returning to the Keep.

 

"I know. Daenerys shouldn't have sent me." 

 

"Why do you think so poor of yourself?" There was a hint of exasperation in her voice, but he didn't turn to regard her.

 

"I wonder why."

 

_A bastard's nature, I guess._

 

"Fool," she muttered.

 

"What?"

 

"You did very well there, but you need a bath. That's what I meant."

 

"Ah, the gift from the crowd," he remembered. "I had forgotten about that. I suppose it was a great scene."

 

"It wasn't," she sighed. "I'm sorry about the drama of the other day."

 

Jon stopped abruptly and turned to see her this time.

 

"We could have avoided the _drama_ if you had declined Connington."

 

 _What am I saying?_ He had thought he had settled his emotions about the subject already.

 

"I did what I thought right," she said defensively.

 

"How is abandoning me with the White Walker's problem the right thing?!" he had increased his volume.

 

"How dense can you be?! Do I have to spell every word for you?!"

 

He was taken aback for it was the first time she had shouted to him during a discussion.

 

"Yes, I would like you to properly explain your reasons," he said after he had calmed down.

 

"You expect..." she stopped and turned to every possible direction.

 

"What?"

 

"There are too many Sons of the Warrior. They have been following us."

 

He turned to watch. She was right.

 

"I thought the High Sparrow was dead," he whispered.

 

"He is, but the remaining Faith Militant is still working for the new High Septon."

 

"Do you think they have issues with me?" If stories were the truth, they could be very dangerous.

 

"It could be. I don't think they fancy the idea of the affair between Lyanna and Rhaegar."

 

_Fantastic._

 

"What do we do?" Running away would be suspicious.

 

"Find out their objective?"

 

"And if it's something bad?"

 

"We run."

 

They continued walking until they met face to face with one of the Sons the Warrior who asked them to stop.

 

"May I help you?" he asked him.

 

"We're here to take a sinner to the High Septon's presence."

 

"What am I being accused of?"

 

_Being born would be the most accurate answer._

 

"We didn't come for you, Jon Targaryen," the man turned away from him. "We came for the woman."

 

 

 

CYARA

 

"Jon, Aegon, Connington, Tyrion, Balaq, Strickland, is there someone in the city I've not been bedding?" She asked between anger and laughter. It was ridiculous.

 

"You forgot Lady Nym," Arya commented.

 

Cyara stopped her pacing, "For real? I haven't spoken to her ever since the battle."

 

"No, but it would increase the scandal, don’t you think?" Arya shrugged.

 

 _I should have expected something like this to happen._ Cyara could have eluded herself from the struggle if she had been more subtle with Margaery Tyrell, but she had been feeling so angry and guilty that she forgot to control her reactions. _Arianne Martell has more grounds to act against me._ But the princess was too refined for that sort of conduct.

 

"Do you have any idea of what they're planning to do with me?"

 

"What did the High Septon say?" Arya made a pause, "it was something like _it’s the duty of the Faith to rid the Crown of the sources of corruption_ and so on."

 

 _What about the Red Priest?_ In a sense, he was a source of corruption as well.

 

"So they're planning to execute me."

 

"I heard the silent sisters are an option as well."

 

_I wonder which one is worse._

 

"How indulgent," she sat on the floor. "You must believe I deserve this."

 

"I was mad at you, I'm still mad, but I don't consider this is even," Arya scowled. "You know, I've been wondering, the security here isn't infallible. How come you haven't gotten out of here?"

 

"There's no way to do that without violence. I'm in trouble with R'llor and the Old Gods as it is. I don't want to add the Seven to the list."

 

 _How did I manage to infuriate three different gods?_ It was too much. _My existence must be damned._

 

"If you want to stay in this stinking place and freeze or starve to death, it's your decision."

 

 _You don't know cold as I do._ Nothing could compare to the time before she met Brynden. _The menu here is a feast._

 

"I've had it worse," she said with a dismissive gesture. "So, there won't be a trial."

 

"There wasn't going to be a trial," Arya made her wolfish smile. "Not until the Ice Dragon came to _persuade_ the High Septon."

 

 _What does he think he's doing?_ She felt a strange mixture of gratitude and irritation when she heard about his actions.

 

"I expected Connington would stop him from doing something as reckless as that."

 

Arya laughed, "You would have cracked in laughter if you had seen the face the Grumpy Hand did when Jon left him speaking alone."

 

"He's acting like a fool. A trial won't make any difference, and it will end up damaging his reputation."

 

"As if he were to worry about something as stupid as that."

 

 _He should worry more about that._ She had been supposed to make his life easier, not more difficult.

 

Right after Arya left, the septa that had been acting as her warden took her to the hall where they were going to judge her. The High Septon was waiting for her along with Jon, Arya, some acolytes, and northern guards. The northerners couldn't be staring at her with more scorn.

 

_I didn't ask for this._

 

"You have been accused of fornication, and corruption of good men, including members of the Royal family. How do you declare yourself?" The High Septon said in an ominous tone.

 

_Do they consider Strickland good? In any case, why am I the only one being judged? Perhaps I should follow Arya's suggestion and force my way out of here._

 

"I haven't done anything of the sort."

 

"Do you deny spending the night in the same room as the Targaryen Princes?"

 

_Damn you, corrupt hog._

 

"No."

 

"What would you do the whole night in their chambers?"

 

_That would be an appropriate question for the Queen and Daario Naharis._

"I'm a guard so I would say protecting their life. I never got away from the door."

 

"You don't have witnesses."

 

"Prince Jon Targaryen can confirm it."

 

"I spoke to him, but the fact that the Crown Prince and the others didn't come to testify is suspicious."

 

 _It doesn't surprise me._ Margaery and Connington had surely being doing the impossible to keep Aegon from following Jon. Tyrion was too disturbed. Strickland had always hated her, and Balaq had been sent to secure Dragon Stone.

 

"Which kind of proof would you need to convince yourself I'm innocent?" She was reaching her patience limit.

 

"A penance walk after the careful examination of one of the septas would be enough," the man said as if he was doing her a favor.

 

 _Who would do something like that?_ She was angry as she had not been in years.

 

"I won't submit to that humiliation! I demand a different kind of trial!" Arya looked very amused when she heard her.

 

"Do you mean a combat?"

 

"I have no other option."

 

"Do you have a champion?"

 

"I don't need one."

 

"The Faith doesn't approve that kind of behavior from a woman."

 

_So that's where he wanted to get from the beginning._

 

"I'll do it. Let's finish this absurdity."

 

 _This foolishness isn't happening_. The northerners were full of incredulity.

 

"Your Grace, you can't."

 

"Why not?"

 

"No, Your Grace...  this is..."

 

"Stop blabbering nonsenses and make the preparations."

 

The Septon was about to piss himself, and the northerners had never hated her more.

 

As the acolytes made the arrangements, she slipped away from her warden.

 

"What do you think you're doing?"

 

"Get you out of here. I thought it was pretty obvious."

 

"No, you're creating trouble for yourself," she made him turn to her. "Did you even consider the consequences of your actions?"

 

"Was I supposed to abandon you with them?" Jon pointed to the acolytes and septas.

 

"Yes. I was about to abandon you with the White Walkers, remember?"

 

"It's not the same."

 

_No, it is ten thousand times worse._

 

"If you do this you are risking the dornish support."

 

"This has nothing to do with that."

 

"It has. The princess surely has heard the nasty rumors that dragged me here. What is she going to think when she learns you came to help me?"

 

He hesitated before answering. "She's not going to think anything because everything is a lie."

 

"You know very well in this place the truth worths less than horse shit."

"I'll make her understand."

 

"Defending another woman is not a promising way to start a marriage."

 

"If she gets mad at me for helping you then I'm not sure I would want to marry her."

 

"Don't be foolish, Snow. You know you need her."

 

"Complain all you want," he gave her one last stare. "I'm not going to change my mind," and he walked away.

 

_How am I going to get away from you now?_

 

Cyara paid little attention to what happened next. There was a huge mess inside her head. Her hard achieved resolve had just been shattered to pieces.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before someone complains about it: No, the Faith Militant that follows the current High Septon in this story is nowhere close to the one in the books (they were too much for me to deal with). I just wanted to establish which kind of person is my Margaery.
> 
> I feel like I've been neglecting Aegon, but his POV isn't useful for me right now. He'll come back in a couple of chapters. 
> 
> Anyway, Next Chapter: "Unsuitable Matches"


	22. Unsuitable Matches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really, really sorry for the delayed update.  
> Sometimes this things just refuse to be written (like my homework). Every time I sat in front of my computer, I ended up writing Promise me or doing something else.
> 
> I wish you can enjoy the chapter.

 

 

SANSA

 

"I can't believe it," Margaery Tyrell had been repeating the same since she learned Cyara had gotten away from the Faith's clutches.

 

 _I didn't think she would react in such a hostile way, but Margaery didn't expect my dear cousin to do what he did either._ Sansa had planned everything so that Margaery would run the Dragon Queen and ask her to expel Cyara from the Kingsguard, but she had decided to act herself. Things would have been different if the Queen of Thorns had been present to advice Margaery.

 

_But I can't complain because it makes my plans easier to perform._

 

From Sansa's perspective, it had been a stupid move. Margaery had thought that no one would move a single finger to help the Winter Maiden because it would damage the prestige of the one who decided to do so. She had not considered that honor and justice were more important than prestige for Starks. She had also assumed a tremendous risk. It wouldn't happen, but if Cyara were to look for revenge, she could tell the Silver Prince the responsible for her arrest had been Margaery.

 

_Had I been in her place I would have told the Queen or use the rumors to ally with Arianne Martell._

 

"My cousin is an idiot," Sansa said as she worked on her labor. "At least the savage is not a part of the Kingsguard anymore."

 

The Lord Hand had been impossible angry when he knew Jon had acted as Cyara's champion against the Faith. He had been very close to banish her from the city. Quite an unfair way to reward someone who had delivered the third dragon head to them. Especially considering she was innocent.

 

"Inside or outside the Kingsguard, she keeps being a bother. She must be already whispering to Aegon," Margaery lifted her gaze from her labor. "What if she gives him a bastard before our wedding?"

 

_That would be if she shared your way of thinking, my friend, but she doesn't. However, if you keep pressing our fellow to her limit... who knows what she would do._

"I think I understand why that worries you, but I'm sure the Lord Hand would send her away with her bastard."

 

"If Aegon is as obsessed with her as I believe, he might legitimize the little whoreson and name it his heir."

 

"That would be awful," she made a pause to order her ideas. "However, the Silver Prince might just be using her to have fun. If he felt something for her, he would have gone to help her."

 

Of course Sansa was aware that if the Crown Prince had not followed Jon to the Great Sept was because Margaery and Connington had not allowed it. They had everything but imprisoned him in his chambers.

 

"Perhaps, but the thing is that she is free again, roaming the Keep. I can't figure out a way to get rid of her."

 

"Marrying her to a Lord who lives far away from the Keep could settle everything."

 

Margaery gave her an annoyed stare. Sansa feigned she had not seen it.

 

_Yes, I'm retarded enough to ignore that was your first course of action._

 

"I made her an offer and she rejected it," Margaery told her patiently.

 

"What if the next time it isn't an offer?"

 

"I don't have enough power to order her to marry, not even after my wedding," Margaery had a curious look, she was analyzing it. "Even after Aegon gets crowned, my power will always be under his.”

 

"You could ask the Lord Hand to give the order."

 

"That wouldn't work either. Your cousin has shown that he doesn't give a damn about Lord Connington's orders."

 

"He is a problem, isn't he? Even if he has been legitimized, he's still a bastard. My mother used to say all bastards are treacherous."

 

"What do you mean?” Margaery was staring at her with some interest. Sansa had never spoken openly against him.

 

"Winterfell legitimately belongs to my brother Rickon but now is his. He took something that didn't belong to him, the way my mother always feared to happen," Sansa lifted her watery eyes to Margaery. "I believed him whenever he said he didn't want Winterfell."

 

 _Yes, the way he claims he doesn't want the Iron Throne,_ she thought when she saw Margaery's reaction. If Jon took the Throne, then there would be no crown for her.

 

"Seems like I have to consider a new source of trouble."

 

"I'm sorry, Margaery," Sansa wiped her tears. "We were talking about you and I'm still bothering you with my complaints."

 

"No, you're my friend. It's fair that I hear you as well," Margaery took her hands and squeezed them.

 

 _Especially when I reveal critical information, isn't it? Although everything is a lie, of course._ Margaery would only believe it because it threatened her position as future Queen.

 

"Thank you, my friend," Sansa smiled.

 

"I guess the Queen and I have a lot to discuss."

 

"She surely will hear your suggestions regarding them. She has the power to make them obey."

 

"I would have to figure out those suggestions first," Margaery said with a wistful expression. "Meanwhile let's forget about the depressing themes, my friend. I think we should go with the rest of the girls, and have some fun."

 

"That would be splendid, Margaery."

 

The flock of hens was cheerfully commenting on the upcoming feast when she and Margaery made it to the Maidenvault. They were excited, planning the color of the gowns they would wear. After all, it would be a memorable day for the Tyrell Household. It was as if one of them was the one who would become Queen. Sansa greeted them and joined the conversation.

 

"Surely you will be using blue and cream that day, Sansa. Those are the Arryn's colors, aren't they?" Elinor asked her.

 

"I haven't decided yet," she blushed. "Wouldn't it be of bad taste to use the colors before the betrothal is announced?"

 

"I don't think so, and you have to consider the color favors you because of your hair," Elinor tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I envy you so much; Harrold Arryn is very handsome, and you will be the Lady of the Vale."

 

 _Hypocrite_. Sansa knew what the little roses thought of her.

 

Sansa lowered her gaze, in part to hide her anger, "It wasn't the Lady of the Vale I wanted to become."

 

"Oh, Sansa, I'm sorry," Margaery gave her a pitiful look. "Even if you don't marry Willas, we will always consider you as part of the family," the future Queen took her hand.

 

_That's because you think you can use me in your Game against my cousin._

 

"Margaery, you're always kind with me," Sansa shed some tears again and Margaery wiped them with her hands.

 

"Don't cry, Sansa. Remember women in our position must make the best of their circumstances. Harrold Arryn is better than the Lannister dwarf, isn't he?"

 

 _Better?_ She pondered. _Easier to manipulate would be more accurate._

 

"You're right, Margaery. I'm always complaining; I'm an idiot."

 

"You're not," Margaery smiled. "Come on, change that face. I know, let's call the bard; the music might cheer you up."

 

 _As long as he isn't like Marillion._ She didn't like the musicians as much as she used to after what had happened at the Vale.

 

 _Margaery likes her bards attractive._ Sansa thought after Neal greeted the flock of hens.

 

The little roses swooned at the sight of the handsome man and ran to request a song from him. Neal answered throwing killing smiles at all of them. The young bard played _the Maids that Bloom in Spring, the Seasons of my Love_ and _Six Maids in a Pool_ for them. Every time a song ended, the little roses fought upon who would choose the next song. Sansa patiently waited for her turn. She exactly knew which one she wanted him to sing.

 

"And you beautiful Lady, which one can I sing for you?" The man directed to Sansa.

 

"I would like to hear the story of Jenny of Oldstones and her Prince of the Dragonflies," Sansa made an effort to avoid staring directly at Margaery.

 

 _'A harp can be as dangerous as a sword, in the right hands.'_ Petyr had told her once. _I'll see how dangerous this one can be._

TYRION

 

Tyrion awoke with a terrible hangover, the way he had done during the past fortnight. His head felt as if it were about to explode and still, it wasn't the worse part of his pain. He had been acting the cynical man during most of his life. However, that didn't mean what had happened wouldn't affect him.

 

 _My sweet sister found a way to make me miserable until the very end._ He wasn't able to understand the reasons she had had to kill her children. Her only redeeming quality had been the love for her children, and Tommen and Myrcella didn't deserve the end she had given them. Tyrion felt terrible, and Jaime couldn't be more broken. His brother had failed to save their lives and had killed the woman he loved with his own hands. _I suppose the Queen can consider his father avenged now._

 

Tyrion stood still; waiting for the headache to relent, but it didn't. He got up after a long time of hesitation; decided to get out of his self-imposed solitude. It was about time he moved on; he couldn't afford to lose his position as Master of Coin. As horrible as things were, he wasn't the kind of man to allow himself to be eaten by suffering.

 

He left the room and asked a surprised Pod not to follow him. As he made his way through the castle, he could feel the stares of Lords, Ladies and servants upon him. Their stares held a mixture of pity and disgust. _They are staring at one of the fallen Lannisters._ Tyrion found it sickening. _I guess this is how my young ex-wife felt after the Red Wedding._

 

His aimless wandering took him to the outer yard. There, he found the most recent addition to the group of pariahs of the Red Keep.

 

"Shouldn't you be guarding one of the dragons?"

 

Cyara waited until her arrow hit the target before regarding him, "I'll take the jest as a sign of recovery." Then she added, "My words are useless, but I'm sorry for what happened."

 

Tyrion didn't know how to react. It was so unusual to receive such words in a reliable way at that kind of place.

 

"Cersei was deranged. No one could have predicted what she was up to," that was what he had repeated to himself.  "I've been thinking, what happened must be the proper punishment for Jaime because of his crimes," he confided her in a bitter tone as he remembered Bran Stark.

 

"I never wished something like that to happen. They were innocent," she looked quite offended.

 

"I never said it was something you wanted, but the gods will."

 

"The gods," she snorted. "Those don't give a damn about us. Less so about justice."

 

"So your experience with the Faith turned you into an unbeliever," he said arching a brow.

 

Cyara glowered at him. He knew it was a wicked thing to tell her after what she had gone through, but he wanted to divert from the other topic.

 

"I was an unbeliever long before the incident, and it had nothing to do with the Seven."

 

"Quite a strange thing to confess for a servant of the Old Gods."

 

"That was an act of survival, not faith," she took another arrow and aimed for another target. Tyrion could intuit anger in every movement she made.

 

"Perhaps your little therapy would work better if you painted a Golden Rose on those targets." It had been obvious for him everything had been Margaery's doing.

 

_Cersei is no more but the future Queen doesn’t seem a better option._

 

"Perhaps I should aim for the actual Golden Rose," she said as she released the string of the bow once more. "I would be doing a favour to the Silver Prince."

 

"Would you do it?" He found the perspective very interesting. She was normally someone who could put logic over emotion.

 

_Sansa could use the incident to associate with her against the Rose._

 

"No," she turned to him, "although that doesn't mean I hadn't thought about it.."

 

"A very human thought," Tyrion cocked his head. "Is this what you're going to do until the procession leaves for the North?"

 

"There's nothing else for me to do,” she shrugged. “Connington doesn't want anyone to see me near _his princes_."

 

 _Another woman who ruins a Targaryen Prince._ The whole castle had been repeating how the Ice Dragon, like the heroes of the songs, had rushed to rescue the Winter Maiden, ignoring what it might bring for Arianne Martell. _Lyanna, Elia and Rhaegar. The dornish can't be happy about it._

 

"What about Arianne Martell?"

 

"I spoke to her and she was amazingly comprehensive about the matter," she sighed. "I've been expecting for a Sand Snake to attack or poison me ever since."

 

"That's not like the princess." Cyara's eyes were overflowing skepticism. "Knowing the dornish, it's more feasible for her to invite you to share their bed."

 

"Yeah, that would be fabulous," she had lowered her tone.

 

_Perhaps that wasn’t the right thing to tell her at this moment._

 

"Are you planning to stay in the North?" Tyrion asked cautiously.

 

"Princess Arianne has insisted she wants to reward me for guiding the dornish here," Cyara made a pause while she retrieved the arrows from the targets. "So, in the miraculous event that I survive the attack of the Others, I'll ask her help to go to the Free Cities. Everyone gets a happy ending that way."

 

 _Arianne Martell is more intelligent than Margaery Tyrell._ Her subtleness would be more effective than Margaery's direct actions.

 

"Are you planning to...?"

 

"Pentos? No way," she stared at the gray sky upon them. "Arya told me the Titan of Braavos is amazing." Strangely enough, she sounded enthusiastic.

 

"I've heard the same."

 

 _Braavos is a better destination than the Kingsguard._ Tyrion noticed she had not even mentioned Jon. Circumstances had never been in her favor, and she understood that much.

 

"Until then, I'll rot in the Red Keep."

 

"The Master of Coin always needs help," Tyrion offered. "Bronn is not very cooperative and Pod is, well, Pod."

 

_I truly have a soft spot for outcasts, bastards, and broken things._

 

"Shouldn't the Master of Coin take more care of his image?"

 

"It will be interesting to discover which reputation will be more damaged if they see us together," he answered her with a wicked smiled.

 

"Perversion and corruption of good men. That's the reason of my existence," she answered before following him.

 

After his encounter with Cyara, three days passed quickly, and the time for the feast arrived. Just like the day of the coronation, the Red Keep was immersed in chaos, especially the Maidenvault. The Tyrell Household was preparing for the announcement of the hopefully, definitive marriage of Margaery. The Fat Flower was more than delighted to secure that one of his grandchildren would inherit the Iron Thorne.

 

 _Even if something were to happen to Aegon, they could still try going after Jon,_ Tyrion thought as Pod helped him to dress for the event. That situation would bring an extra source of satisfaction for the Tyrells. Snatching the Ice Dragon from the dornish princess would be quite a payback for what the Red Viper did to Willas Tyrell.

 

He stared at his reflection once he was done. The crimson velvet tunic trimmed in gold and the black breeches didn't do anything to improve his image. Not that it was something unfamiliar.

 

He stepped out of his chambers and went to look for Jaime, although not with real joy. His older brother had become a stranger. Jaime was no more than a silent ghost. And not for the first time Tyrion considered perhaps it would have been better if he had not saved him from the Dragon Queen.

 

Jaime was sitting on a chair staring at the void when Tyrion entered the room. Strangely enough, he was already dressed for the feast.

 

 _Excellent joke._ Whoever had been in charge of preparing his and Jaime's garment, had a good sense of humor. It was the same design, but, of course, it looked way more accurate on Jaime. _I knew the court would try ridiculize us during this event, but this is too much._

 

"We are going to produce a good amount of laughs tonight, brother," he tried to joke.

 

Jaime only answered with a faint grunt. That made Tyrion's exasperation.

 

"You don't have to do this," he offered casually. "The reasons you had to obey the Dragons are gone, so you could just refuse."

 

That night, Jaime would be assigned a bride chosen by the Crown. Tyrion knew the match might bring some embarrassment for House Lannister as a form of private revenge for the Queen. Plus, a marriage was something Jaime had never fancied.

 

"Those reasons were your niece and nephew," Jaime spat.

 

"Don't be hypocritical, damn cripple," he retorted furiously. "I cared for those children more than you ever did and for a longer time."

 

"It was that way, indeed," Jaime wasn't looking at him.

 

"I'll tell the Queen you won't assist and that she can cancel the betrothal to whoever she has chosen."

 

"I’m going to do it.”

 

"Seven Hells, I don't get you." Tyrion had become unable to understand Jaime way of thinking. "As I said, you have no reason to do it."

 

"If I don't do it, the Queen won't give me Casterly Rock."

 

"You never wanted to become the Lord of the Rock." Tyrion couldn't remember any other conversation he had had with Jaime that had been so confusing.

 

"I won't let her hand the Rock over to one of her underlings."

 

 _You selected an awful time to care for your inheritance, Jaime._ Life would be easier for both of them if he just gave up the place. Not to mention it didn't seem like Jaime was so fond of living anymore.

 

"Do whatever you want. With or without you, the Westerlands will never be free of the control of the Dragons again," that settled their conversation.

 

 _A disastrous choice._ He recognized when he and Jaime walked into the Throne Room together. The Lords and Ladies didn't even tryto hide their amusement. _We must make a hilarious couple._

 

Ultimately, Tyrion decided to ignore them and waddled to his assigned seat with all the elegance his withered legs allowed him.

 

The Throne Room had three main tables. The first one, located at the highest position, would be occupied by the dragons. The second was for the members of the Small Council. Finally, the Queen had reserved the third table for the members of the Seven Great Houses.

 

 _I have a terrible luck._ Tyrion's seat was between the new Master of Laws, also known as the Fat Flower, and Paxter Redwyne, Master of Ships. _Too many, flowers in the garden for my taste._

He directed his attention toward the third table. There, the roses also outnumbered the rest of the assistants. The Queen and Connington weren't aware of how to play the Game. They had granted too much power to the Roses, and that was going to overwhelm them eventually.

 

Tyrion observed the members of the Great Houses while the Hall waited for the dragons. Jaime was on the left extreme of the table, isolated from the rest by the empty seat that belonged to Edmure Tully... if he was still alive. Then there was Harrold Arryn trying to steal a smile from Arianne Martell. Prince Trystane, meanwhile, looked quite intensively at Sansa Stark, more likely amazed by her grace. Arya Stark was actively speaking with the recently legitimized Edric Baratheon. The roses were self-satisfied, waiting for the moment of the important announcement. He wondered if all those interactions had a hidden meaning. Sometimes, the most innocent of actions could trigger a determinant development in history. Like the tourney of Harrenhal.

 

Tyrion had no time to go further into his thoughts for the doors opened, and the dragons made their entrance. The Queen was wearing a red silk gown and the crown with the rubies. She was holding arms with her two nephews; both of them dressed in black. As expected, Jon's face made visible that he wasn't feeling comfortable with the performance. His relationship with Daenerys kept going down hill.

 

The Queen had underestimated his capacity to act as a leader and sent him to deal with the furious crowd of the city. At first, it had looked like an excellent option to keep his problematic nephew away from the court, and gaining time with the common folk. However, the result had not been very satisfying for her. The citizens that had been at the edge of starting a riot now claimed for the dragons, well, for the Ice Dragon, who had defended them from the soldiers.

 

The three dragons walked to their table with the brand new Royal Guard escorting them. Ser Barristan walked ahead of the other six knights. Rolly Duckfield, Loras Tyrell, Franklyn Flowers, Daemon Sand, Lyn Corbray and Gerold Dayne. Tyrion glowered when the last of them passed in front of him. He couldn't care less of who the dragons selected to look after their asses, but Darkstar had hurt Myrcella. Still, no one said a word, not even Trystane Martell, who looked so angry at the sight of the knight. Tyrion decided he wouldn't forget that offense.

 

"My friends, let's enjoy together this feast the gods have blessed us with," the Queen prompted.

 

The attendants raised their cups. Some with certain reluctance but everything started well.  The servants attended the first course of dinner, and the wine began to flow. Tyrion decided he would get drunk before the Queen announced the first betrothal. The damn things would be disseminated along the night, to increase the excitement.

 

A bard from the Reach named Lyon sang half a dozen songs before finishing his participation with one of his authorship. In _Two Dragons_ , the sons of Rhaegar Targaryen had fought the terrible creation of a wicked necromancer. The young princes had succeeded and taken back the Throne of their ancestors.

 

 _Beautiful song, although not very faithful to the real deal._ Lyon hadn't mentioned the men deceased during that battle or the help the princes had received from the Sand Snakes, Arya, or the Winter Maiden. Far from glorifying them, the song had produced a melancholic expression on both, which made them look curiously similar.

 

After the third course, the Queen asked for silence.

 

"War is a terrible thing," she started. "The Realm needs healing, and we can only achieve that together. What would be a better way to start the healing and reestablish ties between the Kingdoms than marriage?"

 

 _A great measure considering she isn't going to get married for politics._ Tyrion saw the Queen smile and the multitude waited for her to continue. _One thing is sure, our Queen has a talent for speeches._

 

"Please raise your cups to congratulate Lord Harrold Arryn and Lady Sansa Stark," the Queen raised her goblet. "Let the Gods bless their union."

 

The Lords followed their Queen while Harry the Heir stood up to kiss the hand of a blushing Sansa. His ex-wife had always blushed in a beautiful manner. The couple received greetings from various Lords and Ladies. Tyrion would have greeted them too, but Harry wouldn't have taken as a sincere act.

 

 _Harrold Arryn doesn't know what's waiting for him._ Tyrion couldn't repress his smirk as he thought of it.

 

Another bard from the Reach, this time named Neal, sang for them as they finished the fourth and fifth course.

 

The Queen raised again. Most of the attendants cracked into laughter when the Queen designated Brienne of Tarth as Jaime's bride. Those jerks found the match killing. The Queen had even justified that, based on how the Lady had defended Jaime, there was affection between them.

 

 _This farce is disgustingly unfair for the Maid of Tarth._ The young Lady had a good heart; her only mistake had been finding some good in Jaime. She was much more than what his brother deserved.

 

Against the odds, Jaime went to the place where Brienne was and took her to his table. He even sat on the empty seat so that she wouldn't have to bear the presence of Harrold Arryn. It occurred to Tyrion that Jaime had known about the Queen's decision beforehand.

 

Tyrion stood to congratulate them, thinking he would be the only one. He was proved mistaken. Jon, who had scowled at the cruelty of the court, stood to offer his best wishes to the bride without even looking at Jaime. Aegon, Sansa, Arya and the young Lord Baratheon did the same. Their antipathy towards Jaime had not been enough to dissuade them from favoring Brienne. The court hushed after that.

 

The dessert and another bard, this time from Myr, followed the shameful exhibition. Tyrion was starting to feel dizzy when the Queen revealed the third betrothal.

 

"It's my honor to announce you, my nephew, the Crown Prince will marry Lady Margaery of House Tyrell."

 

The Tyrell multitude roared in approval. Mace Tyrell almost made him deaf with his frantic screams.

 

 _Wasn't that supposed to be the last one?_ The betrothal of the Silver Prince was by far the most important of all. _Well, she's the Queen, she can do whatever she wants._

 

It took an eternity for the bunch of flowers to wish Margaery all the happiness in the world and a prosperous reign for Aegon. After that, the future rulers of the Realm opened the dance floor.

 

 _They make a regal couple._ Tyrion considered as they moved gracefully through the dance floor. They both had dazzling smiles and were the epitome of elegance _. But I thought the same the day she married Joffrey,_ he remembered as he saw the green brocade dress and the brunette curls spinning again and again.

 

Eventually, the couple was followed by others. Jon was pretty rigid, but he had asked for a dance from the amused dornish princess. Everything was smoothly developing until the Queen spoke for the last time that night.

 

"I'd like to make an announcement aside from the betrothal," she regarded Jon with a smile. "As some of you may know, the northerners asked my nephew to become the Lord of Winterfell, and the proposal honors the Crown," she paused. "I believe there is a saying in the North that claims there must always be a Stark at Winterfell. That is why I want if the Lords allow me, to grant my nephew the Stark name."

 

_How attentive, especially considering the Stark surname holds less influence than Targaryen._

Jon was a bit shocked, but Connington had not blinked an eye. Connington had not gotten along with Jon since the incident with the Faith. The old man might think it was a proper punishment for the unruly prince. The northerners approved the Queen's decision; he could see it in their faces.

 

"Dear nephew, your presence was crucial for our victory. You forged alliances we would not have been able to attain. You granted us the trust of people who had the right to despise for the mistakes of our House. You fought valiantly to take the city and saved our dear Aegon from that monster. You give us guidance to rule a Realm we don't fully understand." Daenerys raised her cup and made a long pause.

 

 _What is happening here?_ The Queen couldn't have changed her mind like that. _Is she admitting her defeat?_

 

"For all those reasons I think, you, among us, deserve to marry for love and not for politics. I'll be happy to allow you to wed the Winter Maiden."

 

 _Surely this is how it felt to be at the Tourney of Harrenhal._ The Throne Room had fallen completely silent. The smiles gave place to widened eyes and gaping faces. Most of the attendants were astonished, the dornish and the northerners were furious, and the Tyrells were chastising the revelation. Jon was still as stone staring at the Queen and Arianne Martell had gone pale; she had lost her usual composure.

 

Connington stood up abruptly and walked to whisper something to the princess, Daenerys and Jon. They left the Throne Room without paying attention to the guests. Aegon stayed to put some order in the place but not even when the musicians played again the people stopped whispering.

 

 _And I thought Daenerys didn't know how to play._ She had praised Jon, and made the whole court think she was giving him what he wanted. It wouldn't matter if he apologized, denied everything, and married Arianne Martell. Their marriage would be tainted by that night forever. And the idea of him having a relationship with Cyara would be reinforced by the incident with the Faith.

 

Daenerys had shattered Jon's efforts with a single blow. The court and the common folk wouldn't see his actions behind the fact that he had done the same as his dragon father. There would be no dornish support for the North. Possibly even the Northerners would reject him for choosing one of the wildlings they despised so much.

 

 _The world is mean._ A few words had been enough to transform the Ice Dragon into a dragonfly.

 

 

 

DAENERYS

 

"He is not that kind of man," Arianne Martell said.

 

The princess, Connington, and Jon had demanded an explanation. Dany had been ready to explain her reasons to each one of them, but she had insisted on attending them separately. Her success depended on dealing with them one by one.

 

"Can you be sure? For how long have you known him?" Dany paused. "Sansa Stark has known him her whole life and she thinks it could happen."

 

"Aegon trusts him."

 

"Aegon knows as much of him as we do."

 

"He is not the ambitious type," the princess gave her a pointed look.

 

 _She means unlike me?_ That had been the dornish notion ever since Aegon named her Queen.

 

"I never said he would do it for ambition. We all know he's more Stark than Targaryen. What if he does it for revenge for her mother, uncle and grandfather?"

 

"He is your kin."

 

_That is not enough._

 

"He's a bastard born from treason to Elia Martell," she had expected the mention of her aunt to prompt the princess to take her side. It only gained her an angry stare. "Wich side will you to choose if you both get married and he decides to act against Aegon?"

 

The princess considered her words for a minute.

 

"Dorne and my father won't take this insult lightly. I'll be sure to tell them it wasn't your nephew's doing." Arianne narrowed her eyes. "You're not well-liked at Dorne."

 

 _How direct._ Dany knew telling the princess about the prophecy wouldn't help. She would think it had been her way to split Aegon's forces.

 

"We have had our differences, but I swear I want to protect Aegon as much as you do. If Jon wants the same as me and Dorne, then there's no reason for a union between the both of you."

 

Arianne Martell adverted her eyes, "What you did can't be changed, Queen Daenerys. However, you can be sure that if I sense the slightest menace towards Aegon from any of your actions, the dornish won't doubt to act against you."

 

 _Unbowed, unbent, unbroken._ The dornish princess was one of the few who had never feared her authority.

 

"You don't have to tell me," Dany answered with a sigh. She had wanted to be friends with the dornish, but that had become impossible after Rhaegal roasted Quentyn Martell.

 

"If there's nothing left to say, I'll take my leave, _Queen_ Daenerys," the princess stood and left the Small Council Hall. Her title had never felt as an insult until that moment.

 

The next to enter was Connington. His scowl was deeper than usual.

 

"What in the Seven Hells do you think you're doing?!" he had not waited to take a seat.

 

"What's best for Aegon and the Realm," she answered calmly.

 

Connington stared at her as if he were in front of her father. Dany didn't like that.

 

"I appreciate the efforts you have made for the sake of my brother's sons, but you don't realize what your decisions are building up, Lord Connington."

 

"Stop it with your crazy suspicions, Daenerys," he replied impatiently. "That senseless brat doesn't want the Throne, and even if he did, he has more right to it than you."

 

"I am not wary of Jon; he's my family," Dany sipped her wine. " I'm wary of the dornish."

 

"What?! Aegon is the son of Elia Martell. If they have a problem with a dragon, that would be you."

 

_Why does everyone insist on making me the villain?_

 

"They don't like me, but I'm taking precautions for Aegon's interest."

 

"Get to the point already," Connington growled.

 

"They doubted of his origin when we met," she knew Connington shared that fear with her. "What if they still doubt and are just waiting the right time to overthrow him? If the time comes, will Jon be able to choose between his wife and his brother?"

 

"This will cause trouble with Dorne."

 

"Not if they think it was Jon's decision to reject the betrothal and it had nothing to do with the Crown. Besides, Cyara would stop being a nuisance for Aegon's marriage that way."

 

_She won't have more opportunities to whisper in Aegon's ear._

 

"This stupidity better doesn't cause more trouble than it has already," Connington worried too much for Aegon and would do anything to save him trouble.

 

 _Jon tainted his own image when he helped Cyara._ There was nothing much to do for him. Connington preferred one spoiled prince than two.

 

Connington left, and Daenerys tiredly sighed. She still had to deal with one last person.

 

Jon didn't take a seat when he entered. He limited to stare at her with his Stark eyes; he had never stared at her with such scorn, not even after she forgave Baelish. For the first time, he felt like a real threat to her.

 

"I never asked for this," he started in a low tone. "I never asked you to legitimize me, name me a part of your family or give me a place at court. The only thing I asked for was help to protect, not just the North, but the entire Realm. The Realm you eagerly want to rule."

 

"I..."

 

"You denied listening," he didn't allow her to speak. "If I searched the support of the Lords was not to sit on that cursed chair, which has caused an uncountable amount of trouble and suffering," he paused and narrowed his eyes. "Lyanna might have triggered the Rebellion, so I understand your hate. But your wrath has gone too far."

 

It took Dany a couple of seconds to be able to speak. Something in his tone had disconcerted her.

 

"Our relationship has never worked well, but I didn't do it for revenge. I did it for Aegon. It worries me the dornish might use you to depose him."

 

"You could have invented a better lie," Jon retorted skeptically.

 

"It's not a lie, Jon. You weren't there, but the dornish didn't believe he was the son of Elia Martell. I'm not sure if they have changed their minds by now."

 

 _If he cares for Aegon as much as he claims, he will accept._ If he did not, Dany would have more reasons to doubt him.

 

"Fine, I won't marry Arianne if that makes you happy. But I won't marry Cyara either. And I demand men for the Wall."

 

"You have to marry her," she said cautiously.

 

"She has nothing to do with any of this."

 

"It is the only way to stop her from creating more trouble between Aegon and Margaery Tyrell."

 

 _Doesn’t he know?_ Jon was clearly confused.

 

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. I won't do it."

 

Dany was prepared to deal with his reluctance.

 

"If you do it, I will send my children to defend your Wall." At least she could be sure of her control over her dragons; she was their mother.

 

Dany saw his eyes widening in surprise. Jon was struggling to make a decision. He didn't let her down.

 

"We have a deal," he gave up in the end. He wasn’t satisfied in the very least.

 

Jon closed the door, and Dany reflected what had just happened. It had not been an easy method to deal with the situation. When Margaery Tyrell presented her plan she had doubted, but it solved most of her concerns. Jon wouldn't hold so much influence over the Realm and Cyara wouldn't do it over Aegon. Dany would even send help to deal with the White Walkers. She had closed all the paths that might conduct them to the fulfillment of the prophecy.

 

_Then, why hasn't my anxiety disappeared?_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, Daenerys... Please be patient.
> 
> Next Chapter: "Wild Violet"


	23. Wild Violet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh... I reviewed this one over and over again.  
> It could have ended like a disaster. I hope it didn't.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

ARYA

 

"I knew it. I knew something like this would happen," Cyara looked ready to strip the skin off of her face. She turned and gave Arya a desperate look. "I warned your foolish brother, but he refused to listen to me."

 

"Could you calm down?" Arya had started to regret her decision to tell Cyara right away. "It wasn't the fault of neither of you."

 

"I don't know who is going to try to kill me first," Cyara had ignored what Arya had just said, "the dornish or the northerners," she laughed almost madly.

 

"If someone is going to get killed, that would be the Dragon Queen... Stop that, already!" The cell was too small, and Cyara's incessant pacing had started to irritate her.

 

Cyara sat on the straw mattress, closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She looked calmer when she opened them again.

 

"I'm going to leave. I'll return to the North first. Tell Jon I'll meet him at the Wall."

 

"What? I don't think that will solve anything." With or without Cyara, the damage was already done.

 

_I would take care of the Dragon Queen personally, but that would cause Jon more trouble._

 

"Then what do you suggest, Arya?"

 

"To be honest, I have no idea," she shrugged.

 

 _Perhaps my treacherous sister would know how to act._ Sansa had reproved Jon's _behavior_ , but Arya knew it had been false. Was she truly considering asking for Sansa's counsel?

 

"How helpful," Cyara put her head between her hands. "I hate this place. I hate its people. I hate how everyone uses others as means to get what they want."

 

"Welcome to King’s Landing," Arya said half joking.

 

There was a soft knock on the door, and they both exchanged an alarmed stare. Were the Sand Snakes truly going to get rid of Cyara?

 

"Are you waiting for someone?"

 

"What?! Of course not."

 

Arya moved to open the door warily and found Jon waiting outside. He looked like a man who had just been sentenced to death.

 

"Arya! What are you doing here?"

 

"I came to tell her," she made a gesture towards Cyara.

 

Jon sighed wearily and closed the door.

 

"I..."

 

"Save your energy. Arya told me already," Cyara interrupted Jon. "I think it would be better for me to leave, and wait at the Wall."

 

 _What happened to all the drama?_ Cyara's attitude had changed after Jon appeared. _Perhaps she wants to save him worries._ It wouldn't be something new. _Pair of idiots._

 

"You can't because..." Jon averted his eyes. "I accepted."

 

_He did what?!_

 

"Why?" Cyara's gaze was filled with alarm, which quickly transformed into anger.

 

Arya was still, staring between both of them. The only reason she had not left the small cell was that she feared Cyara would beat up Jon.

 

"I made a deal with Daenerys."

 

_The Dragon Queen begs to be added to my list._

 

"A deal?"

 

"She will send the dragons to the Wall. That will save many lives," Jon offered as justification.

 

 _She’s unbelievably generous._ The Dragon Queen acted as if she were doing an enormous favor to Jon when she sat on the Iron Throne because of him.

 

"I understand," Cyara meditated on the matter. "What happens with the Princess?"

 

"I spoke to her before coming here. She understands it was Daenerys's doing, and assured me she will inform her father about it."

 

_I'm starting to like Dorne more and more._

 

"What about the Sand Snakes?"

 

"Arianne said she will control them."

 

Cyara didn't look very convinced, but she assented. "I'd like to be alone," she almost ordered.

 

"Do you think she's going to be fine?" Jon asked when they were away from the cell.

 

_You could have asked her yourself._

 

"She needs to process it," Arya shrugged. "I thought she was going to punch you”.

 

"I thought the same," Jon gave her a faint smile. "She must hate me now."

 

 _Quite the opposite._ Arya pondered whether she should say something, but she decided it had nothing to do with her. Besides, it was only a suspicion.

 

"She said she understood.”

 

"I wonder if the northerners will understand."

 

"If they refuse to listen, you can threaten to send a Faceless Assassin after them."

 

Jon laughed; she smiled in return.

 

"Thank you, little sister," he mussed her hair. "What would I do without you?"

 

"You would be lost," Arya said with feigned confidence. She knew it was the other way around.

 

* * *

 

 

"Remind me again why I must be here," she said as she observed how the handmaid arranged Sansa's hair.

 

"Because," Sansa gave her a pointed look through the mirror, "even if you're a wild beast, we share the same blood. Or so said mother."

 

Arya rolled her eyes. Sometimes, Sansa's performance was so good that she could make Arya feel irritated like she had done before. Sansa had said they needed the little quarrels to convince Margaery Tyrell they were not part of the same team. So, as the handmaid preparing Sansa had been sponsored by the Golden Rose, they had to make it look real.

 

Arya had not cared for the Tyrells; she was not interested in them. Not until Sansa said the announcement at the feast could have been Margaery's idea. She had messed with Jon, therefore, became one of her enemies.

 

"I'm sure you would have been more comfortable if Margaery Tyrell were here instead of me."

 

"That's a shared opinion, believe me. But tradition dictates a member of the family must be by my side while I'm getting ready for the ceremony."

 

It had passed a fortnight since the fatal feast. According to the Dragon Queen, more than enough time to prepare the weddings. She wasn't going to allow the Lords to leave the capital until the four ceremonies had taken place. She wanted to make sure everyone followed her orders. Sansa would be the first.

 

"I forgot the necklace, milady," the handmaid excused herself. "I'll be back, right away."

 

"Thank you," Sansa said with a smile.

 

"Are you sure about this, Sansa?" Arya asked in a low voice while she pulled a loose thread from the sleeve of her gray gown. She had never liked Harrold Arryn.

 

"Could it be that you're worried about me, Arya?" Sansa's smile was dazzling.

 

"Could it be you're testing the limits of my patience?" She would never forgive Sansa, but a wolf from the pack was a wolf from the pack. Although she wouldn’t admit that, Arya wanted her to find some comfort.

 

"If you're going to worry about someone, worry about Harry.”

 

_I guess she can take care of herself._

 

"As you wish."

 

The handmaid returned with the necklace. It was a gold chain with a rose pendant. Arya had never been fascinated in jewelry, but it looked like an expensive item.

 

"I thought the Arryn's sigil was a falcon."

 

"It is, Arya, but this is a present from Margaery," Sansa sounded exasperated. "She says I'm the Rose of Winterfell. Isn't it beautiful?" Sansa had turned to the handmaid.

 

Arya shook her head. "Whatever, are you ready? I'm done waiting."

 

"I am," Sansa walked away from the dresser. "Bring the cloak," she ordered.

 

Arya observed Sansa for an instant. If possible, she looked more beautiful than ever in her long-sleeved gown of ivory silk and golden lace. Arya helped her to close the clasp of the gray cloak with the dire wolf of the Starks. Sansa examined herself one last time.

 

 _She would have been a better Queen than Margaery Tyrell._ No, that Sansa had faded away. Only the gods knew which kind of Queen she would be at that moment.

 

They walked to the Sept inside the Red Keep, where Margaery Tyrell was waiting for them.

 

"My friend! You look gorgeous. I regret not insisting on your marriage to my brother."

 

"You're very kind Margaery."

 

"Please allow me to keep you company until the ceremony starts," Margaery smiled sweetly.

 

"I'm supposed to stay with Arya," she said nervously.

 

"Don't fake it. I know you prefer her company," Arya walked away.

 

She entered the Sept alone. Most of the attendants were northerners and Lords from the Vale, but there were also some members of the Great Houses. She crossed paths with Harrold Arryn.

 

"Dear sister, please, grant me your blessing."

 

_I'll bless you with the gift if you dare to call me sister again._

 

"Of course," she forced a smile. "Come closer and give me a hug." She made sure no one was seeing them to whisper, "You know what I am. Hurt Sansa and I’ll take your life."

 

Arya returned to her place and smiled when she saw Lord Arryn's stunned face from afar.

 

 _Am I supposed to bear three more of these?_ It was the first real wedding she had attended, but she found it boring.

 

The Septon blabbered a bunch of endless prayers. The most interesting part was the exchange of cloaks. Jon, who had delivered Sansa to her husband, retrieved Sansa’s maiden cloak with a small smile. Then Harrold Arryn covered Sansa with his Arryn cloak, and they recited their vows before sealing the union with a kiss. They turned together to the attendants with brilliant faces.

 

 _Now to another feast._ At least this time, she would seat beside Jon. She went to look for him immediately.

 

"Where's your betrothed?"

 

"Cyara wants to avoid the court as much as possible. She is going to hide until the wedding," Jon still looked worried.

 

"As expected of her." Arya wished she could do the same.

 

"Do you think she will be happy?"

 

"I think that depends on you."

 

"Wha-? I'm talking about Sansa." Jon was clearly embarrassed.

 

"So you don't care about her happiness." Arya arched a brow and Jon understood it had been a joke.

 

"You're terrible, little sister," he shook his head. "I'd like to hear your opinion."

 

"If he doesn't make her happy, she will make him miserable."

 

"I don't think that's what father wanted for her."

 

"It was her decision," she shrugged.

 

"Jon, come here! I want to introduce you to someone." The Silver Prince beckoned them when they made it to the Queen's Ball Room.

 

"So he is the infamous Ice Dragon. Or was it a dragonfly?" An amazingly fat man with yellow hair and beard said. He spoke with the soft accent of the Free Cities.

 

He was oddly familiar for Arya. Had she met him before when she was at Braavos? She could not remember.

 

"Come on Illyrio, that was rude," the Prince scolded the fat man. "He is my brother Jon, and she is his sister, Lady Arya," he turned to them. "He is Magister Illyrio Mopatis from Pentos. He helped me and Dany a lot."

 

 _Does he need all those rings?_ Arya thought when the fat man took her hand to kiss it. 

 

Jon, the Silver Prince and the fat man continued talking for a while. She kept thinking where she could have met him. She couldn't dismiss the thought that she had seen him before, and for some reason, she was sure it was important.

 

"I will leave first, young princes, my Lady. I must see the Queen and the Lord Hand." The man left; his walking reminded her of the Water Dancers.

 

She felt her eyes widening; her heart was beating impossibly fast. That unique walking and the way he had pronounced the word _Hand_. She knew who the man was.

 

 _'If one Hand can die, why not a second?'_ The words rang in her head. She clenched her fists with rage.

 

 _Illyrio Mopatis,_ she repeated the name. _Valar Morghulis._

 

 

 

AEGON

 

After Jaime Lannister's wedding, the snow had stopped, and according to Grand Maester Engel that meant the day of the wedding would be clear, even sunny. The High Septon said it was a good omen; the Seven blessed his union with Margaery. The Tyrells seconded the opinion of the man.

 

 _I'm not in the mood to get married, not even for the sake of the Realm,_ he gloomily thought. He wasn't in the mood to do anything.

 

The uncertainty and tension he had felt after they took the city almost two months before had not disappeared. No, that night had only been the culmination of something that had been piling up since he set feet on Westeros.

 

With everything they had gone through, he realized that the Iron Throne didn't justify all the deaths and destruction they had caused. The people from Westeros didn't want a Targaryen King, but to have some peace. He was a foreigner who had not been able to understand something as simple as that.

 

Aegon wasn't even able to maintain peace between those close to him. He was always trying to defend Jon from Dany and Dany or Cyara from Connington. Although, after what Dany had done the day of the feast, she had crossed the line; he wouldn’t speak in her favor ever again. Aegon had argued with her the next day, but it had been useless. Jon and Arianne had already given up to her will.

 

Then there was the fact that he didn't want to marry Margaery Tyrell. He understood the motives Connington had had to choose her, but it was something he had been unable to accept completely. They had spent time together, but he hadn't found anything exceptional about her. Jon, on the other hand, was going to marry someone exceptional.

 

He wouldn't dare to call it love; still, the feeling was more powerful than anything Margaery produced on him. Margaery was beautiful, graceful, kind; she was the perfect Lady, but that was all she had shown him. Even Sansa Stark seemed more interesting than his fiancé.

 

"Aegon, what's wrong with you?"

 

"I'm sorry. I got distracted."

 

"It was more than a distraction; you were not here," Jon said with a frown.

 

They had been discussing the matters of the Realm in private so that Jon's opinion could also reach the Small Council. Besides, after his disputes with Connington and Daenerys, and knowing Jon would leave soon, Aegon had started to spend more time with him.

 

"I don't love her," he blurted. Jon was out of words. "I know. The betrothal is not about love, but that doesn't change how I feel."

 

"Aegon..."

 

"You can save us the speech about Lyanna and father," he spat more aggressively than he intended. He wanted Jon to listen, not to judge him.

 

"I'm not judging you, Aegon. You barely know Margaery. Time will make things different," Jon surprised him.

 

"Can you be sure?"

 

"My fa...uncle didn't love Lady Catelyn when they got married. Time changed that."

 

 _What a cheerful idea considering it comes from him._ Aegon wanted to believe it could turn out that way.

 

"What if I don't get to love her?"

 

"There is more than one kind of love, Aegon."

 

 _Do you feel some kind of love for Cyara?_ Aegon couldn't bring himself to ask the question. He wasn't sure whether he would like the answer. Jon had told him they had acceded to get the dragons; that was all he needed to know. That was all he wanted to know.

 

"I guess you're right," Aegon sighed. "I thought you were going to reprimand me."

 

"Why?"

 

"You weren't happy when you thought there could be something between your sister and me."

 

"Well, that was because," Jon turned red, "I'm overprotective with her, and I was worried about you."

 

"About me? Why?"

 

"The last time my brother followed his heart," Jon winced, "well, that killed him." Jon's expression turned more melancholic than usual. Aegon regretted his comment immediately.

 

"I'm not Robb Stark, Jon."

 

"I know," his brother gave him a sad smile.

 

"Thank you."

 

"For what?"

 

"For listening." That alone had been enough to lift some weight from his shoulders.

 

"It will go well, Aegon."

 

Aegon assented.

 

 _It is not about me; it is about the Realm._ He repeated to convince himself he was doing the right thing.

 

* * *

 

                                                                                      

"Let me look at you one last time." Lemore made him turn for the tenth time. "You look just like your father. If Elia could be here," the septa sighed.

 

"I'm happy you are here, Lemore." She had been the only mother he had known.

 

"Do you want to make me cry, Griff?" She wiped her gathering tears.

 

"You should stop calling me that way."

 

"I won't," she smiled at him and cupped his face. "You will always be my Griff."

 

Aegon moved forward to hug the woman. She was one of the few who kept treating him like a person. One of the few who saw in him more than the Crown he would wear in the future.

 

"Would you escort me to the Great Sept?" he offered his arm to her.

 

"It will be my pleasure."

 

He should have made his way to the Great Sept by horse, greeting the people. But he decided he needed some privacy, and he took the litter only accompanied by Lemore. He would have time for the citizens after the ceremony.

 

Aegon realized the Grand Maester had been right when they arrived at their destiny; it was sunny. Well, as sunny as winter allowed. He entered the Sept and greeted some of the Lords who were already inside. Dany deluged him with good wishes and Connington with approving comments. As if he still needed to be convinced.

 

He took his place in front of the High Septon between the statues of the Mother and the Father. Shortly after that, the place was packed with the Lords and Ladies. Without warning, the High Septon gave the order to start the canticles and the gates of the building opened.

 

Margaery entered with her Lord father. She looked especially beautiful in her strapless dress of ivory brocade, and the maiden cloak with hundreds of roses embroidered with gold thread to the green velvet. A gold diadem with rubies decorated her hair. The garments seemed incredibly heavy for someone to carry, and still, she had not lost a trace of her elegance.

 

Mace Tyrell walked with his daughter towards him. Before taking his place, he greeted Aegon with a big bow. Aegon offered his arm to Margaery along with a smile; she answered him with the same gesture. They got nearer to the sculptures of the Gods together.

 

Guided by the High Septon, both of them recited the obligatory prayers, vows, and words. After that, the old man indicated it was time for the exchange of cloaks. Mace Tyrell moved forward to retrieve the maiden cloak from Margaery. Aegon turned to receive the black Targaryen cloak from Jon; his brother gave him an encouraging smile. He tried not to seem awkward as he covered Margaery with his cloak.

 

"With this kiss I pledge my love to you," they pronounced, and their lips met.

 

The High Septon declared that he and Margaery of House Tyrell were one flesh, one heart, one soul. Margaery became a princess, and their fates became one. When they turned to face the multitude, he realized he had gone through the ceremony rather mechanically.

 

 _My attitude is not right._ He expected no one had noticed his lack of concentration, especially his wife. The last thing he wanted was her to think he didn't appreciate her. He smiled at Margaery once again and offered his arm to her. She took it almost shyly.

 

Duck and Ser Loras led the procession out of the Sept, closely followed by Margaery's cousins who threw rose petals in front of them. The moment they stepped out of the Great Sept, an earsplitting roar came from the square. The people were cheering for them.

 

 _They are cheering for Margaery._ The Tyrell donations were the reason the city had not starved to death. That was a reason to celebrate his wife and his father in law. At first, he had not completely accepted the betrothal to Margaery because her family had fought against them. Now, he realized that politically speaking, had been an agreeable deal.

 

"They adore you, Margaery," he whispered to her as they both waved at the crowd.

 

"They love you too, my Prince," she answered with a smile.

 

_She could start calling me by my name._

 

"Margaery, come here and give a kiss to your grandmother," the old Lady known as the Queen of Thorns appeared in front of them. “You look gorgeous sweetie.”

 

"Thank you grandmother."

 

"Now you, give me a kiss, Silver Prince. We're family now, aren't we?" The woman ordered.

 

Aegon bowed to kiss the woman's wrinkled cheek.

 

"How handsome and gallant," the Lady sniffled. "Did you know I was going to marry a Targaryen? No, of course you didn’t. That was before your grandfather was born." Olenna Tyrell pinched his cheek. "Take care of my sweet Margaery."

 

"I will, Lady Olenna," he stared at the old woman for a while. "Your Lady grandmother is quite a character, isn't she?"

 

"She is. The whole Reach is fearful of her," Margaery chuckled at his comment.

 

They remained where they were, waving at the common folk and receiving congratulations.

 

"I wish you and your wife the best, dear cousin," Arianne kissed his cheek before leaving, almost pushing Dany out of her way.

 

"I think your cousin doesn't like me, my Prince," Margaery said hesitantly.

 

"She is angry at Dany. I don't think Arianne will forget what she did," he paused. "I didn't know she could do something that low. I don't think I'll be able to forgive her."

 

Margaery looked stunned for a second, and he decided to explain himself better. Aegon didn't want her to think he was a resentful person.

 

"I know she is my family, and it might be wrong to hold rancor against her, but Jon and Arianne are my blood as well. She humiliated them in front of the whole court."

 

"It was that woman's fault. I heard she was always too close to your brother."

 

"It was not Cyara's fault," Aegon turned to stare at his wife. "I’m starting to think the Faith’s thing was Dany’s doing as well. If that were true, I…”

 

 _Perhaps I spoke too harshly_. Margaery looked appalled.

"Don't believe what the people say, Margaery. They like to invent stories to have fun. Soon they'll find another target for their whispers."

 

"Your right, my prince," she said a little ashamed.

 

"You know, you should call me Aegon."

 

"My apologies, my-" she blushed prettily, "Aegon."

 

* * *

 

 

 _This meal is exceedingly luxurious._ He thought after they served the third course. Tartlets of chestnut, leek, and mushrooms with spices. _Fourteen courses are too much, but I guess Mace Tyrell has the right to celebrate his only daughter's wedding the way he wants._ The Tyrell Household had been really generous. They had paid for the entire thing.

 

Five different bards animated the dinner until he and Margaery cut the pigeon pie. Right after that, they opened the dancing floor. They danced two pieces together; then while he danced with Arianne and Lady Leonette, Margaery danced with her siblings and father.

 

"Are you happy, Margaery?" He asked when they met again.

 

He would never know what happened between his parents and Lyanna Stark, but he wanted to make sure his marriage would be different. He wanted to consider Margaery's feelings despite his own insecurities.

 

"I'm happy if you're happy, Aegon."

 

 _We have to work on that._ The way she answered him made him feel anxious. It was like she didn't trust him enough to share her mind with him.

 

"TIME FOR THE BEDDING!" Someone yelled.

 

"Time to deflower the Golden Rose!"

 

They stopped their dancing. Margaery looked a bit uneasy.

 

"We could refrain from doing this thing if you don't like it."

 

"It's a tradition. People expect us to do it."

 

"As you wish."

 

The Lords, mainly from the Reach seized Margaery from him and took her out of the Throne Room. Shortly after that, the Ladies did the same with him. They teared his clothes from him rather frantically while making lewd remarks.

 

He made it to the chamber still wearing part of his breeches. He locked the door and gave a heavy sigh before turning to look for his wife.  She was sitting on the bed. Margaery had not been as lucky as him; the Lords had undressed her completely. She was covering her chest with her hands.

 

"Are you fine, Margaery?" The bedding couldn’t be a good experience for the bride.

 

She nodded and Aegon got nearer to her. He stroked her hair with tenderness.

 

"We could wait if you don't feel comfortable," he suggested.

 

"We must consummate the marriage, Aegon," she blushed.

 

 _'People expect this from us.’ ‘We must do that.' She cares too much about appearances._ They had no reason to rush.

 

"Fine," he sat beside her and took her face between his hands to kiss her. "But you must tell me if you don't feel like doing it after all," he added when he parted from their kiss.

 

He stared at Margaery, and she stared back at him with her brown eyes. She was beautiful, and he desired her. Only a fool wouldn't appreciate her beauty. _But I don't love her, not the way I would like._ He dismissed the thought immediately. He had to fulfill his duty towards his wife and the Realm.

 

 

 

TYRION

 

"Did you enjoy the Crown Prince's wedding, sister? It was a great celebration, don't you think?" He was sharing breakfast with Jaime and Brienne.

 

 _Although not as monstrous as Joffrey's wedding._ _I guess even the Tyrell's eccentricity has its limits._ However, for once, they had succeeded. The Silver Prince had survived the feast and consummated the marriage. The Fat Flower couldn't be more pleased. _Perhaps I should take advantage of his happiness to get some gold for the Royal Ark._ The Queen of Thorns was a problem, though.

 

"I didn't think they would invite us," Brienne said shyly.

 

 _She is a great warrior, but she has a maiden's heart._ He still wasn't sure whether Jaime had consummated his marriage. It was probable that he hadn't.

 

Their ceremony had been a little event with few attendants. The feast had been little more than a regular meal. Tyrion would have liked it to be different, for Brienne, but dragging more attention would have only meant more mockery for Jaime and her. Fortunately, for the bride, Selwyn Tarth had arrived in time.

 

"They hate my brother, but you have won the dragons' admiration." He got a piercing stare from Jaime.

 

 _At least two of them._ The Queen had not taken well that Brienne had defended Jaime.

 

"I'm done," Jaime stood and left. Brienne didn't even blinked; she had got used to his mood changes.

 

"Jerk. He should be more considerate."

 

"He is still hurt because of the children and his sister."

 

_She understands him pretty well._

 

"Brienne, you know you don't have to keep on with this farce, right? The Queen doesn't have the right to force you."

 

"If I were to leave, the Queen would execute Ser Jaime. I don't want that to happen," she said with a blush.

 

 _Jaime doesn't realize how lucky he is._ The world was full of women like Cersei and Margaery Tyrell, but he had gotten a Brienne instead. Tyrion could tell she felt something for him.

 

"You're unbelievably kind, sister," he stood up from the table, "but I wouldn't blame you if you got tired of pretending."

 

"We will leave soon."

 

_I don't think that will make things better for you._

 

"You're right," Tyrion gave her a smile. "Excuse me. I have to attend a meeting. Look for me if you need anything."

 

"Thank you, Lord Tyrion."

 

He retrieved the books from his chamber before directing to the Small Council Hall. Aegon had taken his wife to attend the meeting with him. He wanted her to take part in the gatherings; she would rule by his side eventually.

 

 _A better husband than Margaery deserves._ If Aegon wasn't careful, she was going to eat him alive. _Well, it would be Connington and Daenerys's fault._ He had tried to warn them about her.

 

The Fat Flower was happily chattering with the royal couple. The new princess was already wearing red to honor her husband's Household. She looked gorgeous and happy. She was married, bedded and had gotten rid of a potential danger for her position.

 

 _Quite an achievement._ Cersei wouldn’t have done it better.

 

They discussed topics related to the Western lands and the River Lands. Varys told them the situation had gotten worse because of the Lannister loyalists, and the Brotherhood. The Master of Law, the Queen, and the Hand had voted for sending an army to put everything under control. He had been against it because it would mean more expenses for the Crown. Aegon had been against it because sending and army was extremely aggressive from his perspective. In the end, they decided to send a smaller army under Aegon's orders. The Crown Prince planned to take advantage of his younger brother's influence.

 

 _If I were Jon, I would rebel against them._ Daenerys had put him in a horrible position, and they were still taking advantage of him. _The problem is he cares too much for Aegon._

 

"Lord Tyrion, you wanted to discuss something?" The Queen asked.

 

"The Iron Bank will come to ask for its payment. The debt is, well, considerable."

 

"How much?"

 

"Twenty million golden dragons."

 

"What?! We're not going to pay the Usurper's debt," the Queen had reacted immediately.

 

_She has to mature._

"It's the Crown’s debt," he shrugged. "The Iron Bank is dangerous, my Queen, we must pay. Oh, and I would want to add the absurd increase of the debt was Baelish's doing. You can thank him for that."

 

The Queen frowned. She had not liked the remark.

 

"You are the Master of Coin. What do you suggest?" Connington knew the Iron Bank was dangerous.

 

"Demand a fraction of the debt from each Kingdom would be ideal. However, given the state of the Realm most will refuse to pay, and at least the North won't be able to do it."

 

"That doesn't help."

 

"The alternative is asking a loan from someone else."

 

"Kevan Lannister commanded his Master of Coin to do the same; the man didn't get good results," the Fat Flower said.

 

_Swift is an idiot, of course, he didn't._

 

"Maybe you could provide the gold, father," Margaery proposed.

 

 _Then Highgarden would own the Crown. Like Casterly Rock did during Robert's reign._ Tyrion had other plans.

 

"That would represent a heavy burden for Highgarden, princess." He smiled at Margaery. The Fat Flower seemed to agree with him. "Magister Illyrio could be an option since he supported the Targaryen cause from the start."

 

 _Better the cheesmonger than the Iron Bank._ For whatever reason, he wanted the Targaryens on the Throne. He wouldn't ask for the payment right away.

 

"I'll have to speak to him," the Queen conceded. "Is there something else, Lord Varys?"

 

"There's a man who demands a private audience with you, my Queen," Varys rubbed his hands. "He's been considerably obstinate."

 

"Who is he?" The Queen was curious.

 

"He didn't want to give his name, but my little birds informed me his ship displays purple sails with a silver violet. That would mean he is an envoy from Magister Syronno Nervetti."

 

 _This is about to get interesting._ It couldn't be a coincidence.

 

“Illyrio’s acquaintance?” The Queen questioned. “Bring him, Lord Varys."

 

"Yes, my Queen."

 

Varys returned with the unexpected visitor. He was a tall man with tanned skin, sharp features, brown eyes and black hair with some silver strands. He seemed to be in his middle forties.

 

"I asked for a private reunion, Dragon Queen," the man said when he saw the council members.

 

"It could have been that way if you had told your name and purpose, my Lord. I don’t like your secretiveness."

 

_You shouldn’t talk him that way; he isn’t one of your vassals._

 

"I'm Magister Syronno Nervetti from Pentos,” he said after studying the Queen. “I came for my daughter."

 

_She said she didn't want to look for them._

"I'm afraid I can't help you. Your daughter is not here."

 

"I received a letter saying Cyara was here, and she was going to marry a Targaryen Prince."

 

The Queen and Margaery exchanged a worried stare.

 

 _It wasn't Cyara._ The Magister wouldn't be at King's Landing right then if the letter had been sent after the feast. _Sansa, Sansa, Sansa, you must be having fun._

 

"Is this a joke?" Connington was the first to speak.

 

"It is not. Is my daughter here or not? You're wasting my time."

 

 _Lovely man. I wonder how he will react when he learns the way his daughter has been treated._ Cyara had said he had gotten rid of her, but the man wouldn't have crossed the Narrow Sea to find her if that was true.

 

“She never told us she was your daughter, my Lord,” Connington offered as an excuse. The magister was already suspecting something was odd.

 

The Queen sent a guard to look for Cyara and Jon. The magister took a seat and avoided looking at them. It took forever but finally there was a knock at the door. Duck went to open.

 

"What happened to both of you?!" Connington asked terrified. Their aspect was deplorable. Their hair and cloaks were dripping water, and they looked exhausted.

 

 _They must have been hearing grievances since dawn._ It had resulted the citizens had not cared for the Ice Dragon's offense, since he was the one who kept the soldiers under control. Still, Connington had delayed the wedding to delay the shame it might bring to the Crown.

 

"It was raining outside. What do you want?" Jon was disconcerted.

 

Just then, Cyara noticed the magister, and she froze. She looked at Tyrion accusingly. She thought it had been his doing.

 

The magister regarded her, and their stares met for an instant. Cyara turned immediately to leave; her eyes were full of horror. She collided with Duck and slipped with the puddle left by her cloak, falling to the floor. Duck offered her a hand, but she ignored it, stood up, and fled the Council Room. Jon chased after her without a second thought.

 

"CYARA!" The magister had stood up.

 

"My Lord, let’s move to a more private place. The prince will bring her," Connington directed the magister to a smaller hall and sent Duck to look for Jon and Cyara.

 

Tyrion had to suppress his laughter when he saw the disconcerted faces of the members of the Council. Margaery Tyrell had just received bothersome news.

 

"What was the meaning of all that?" The Queen voiced the general opinion.

 

"That, my Queen, means gold for the North, a lot of gold," Tyrion answered delighted.

 

 

 

JON

 

He caught up with Cyara at the stables. She was saddling her horse with trembling hands. Jon put a hand on her shoulder, and she turned abruptly. He could not remember a time when he had seen her frightened.

 

"I have no idea of what happened there, but I don't think running away will solve anything."

 

"Move," she brushed off his hand. "I want to get out of here," she was not looking at him.

 

_What can be such bad that she is so eager to leave?_

 

"At least explain to me what's happening."

 

"It has nothing to do with you."

 

 _We are back where we started._ Although they had not truly made any progress regarding that matter. He needed her to deal with the White Walkers, but she wouldn't be helpful if she remained the way she was at the moment. _I have to try something else._

 

"Maybe I should return and ask that man directly."

 

"Go ahead," he wasn't expecting that response. "Satisfy your curiosity."

 

"Fine."

 

She didn't stop him, so he directed to the Council Hall. He found Duck on his way back.

 

"Lord Connington sent me after both of you."

 

"She's not coming. Who was that man?" He was trying to understand something.

 

"He claimed to be her father."

 

 _That must be a lie._ Jon made an effort to remember if she had told anything about her family, but it was useless.

 

Jon entered the room where Connington was waiting with the man. The last stood up immediately but looked disappointed to see him alone. There was a long silence.

 

"She refused to come," he explained.

 

"That girl," Connington clicked his tongue. "I'll look for her personally."

 

 _What is he plotting now?_ Connington had not stood her presence ever since the incident with the Faith.

 

"Don't. Cyara has reasons to refuse," the man sounded sad. He regarded Jon. "I'll assume you're the Targaryen Prince she's going to marry."

 

"I'm not a Targaryen," he gave a side glance to Connington. "The Queen made me a Stark."

 

"Targaryen, Stark, whatever. Are you promised or not?" The man asked aggressively.

 

"They are," Connington answered in his place.

 

The man stared at Connington with distrust. "Lord Hand, I want to speak with him alone." It was more an order than a request.

 

Connington assented. It was weird to see him recoiling at someone's statements.

 

"Be careful with your words, boy?" Connington warned him before leaving.

 

_What is that supposed to mean?_

 

"Well, now that the nuisance is gone, what was your name again?" The man inquired once he sat.

 

"Jon Stark." It still sounded queer for him; even more than Jon Targaryen. "It's customary to present oneself before asking for someone else's name, my Lord."

 

"Ah, right," the man said indifferently. "I'm Magister Syronno Nervetti. I'll take you are the Lord of Winterfell."

 

"That is correct. I was told you are Cyara's father." He still had no idea of what was going on, but he did his best to avoid seeming oblivious.

 

"Strictly speaking, she is my niece," he admitted. "But since her backward father died in a pointless brawl for the disputed lands and my sister decided to follow him, I raised her as my own daughter."

 

Jon was out of words. He was trying to discern whether the information was true. In a few minutes, the man had told him more than Cyara had in nearly a year.

 

"Cyara didn't tell me. She presented as a wildling when we met."

 

After a couple days he knew she wasn't. He had spent a considerable amount of time among wildlings, but since he didn't know better, he had gotten along with the tale.

 

"You were going to marry despite believing her a wildling?" the man arched a brow. "A questionable selection for a member of the Royal Family. Is that the reason the Dragon Queen stripped you from the Targaryen surname?" The man's expression softened. "Perhaps not everyone is a self-serving rat in this place."

 

 _Was he testing me?_ Now he understood Connington's warning. _Connington is a brute._

 

"May I ask you where you met her?" His way of speaking had softened as well.

 

"It is a bit complicated," he wasn't sure how much he could tell him. "We met at the Wall about a year ago."

 

"The Wall, of course. That cruel beast," the man muttered to himself. He suddenly seemed irritated again. "I'd like to speak with her."

 

"She wasn't pleased to see you, my Lord."

 

"I guess it is natural," the man made a pained expression. "She didn't tell you a word, eh?"

 

"No."

 

"She believes I wanted to remove her to take her inheritance," the man hit the table with an incredible strength. "That was what my wicked son told her before abandoning her beyond your Wall."

 

 _No wonder she didn't want to speak about it._ It was something inhuman. Cyara had been younger than Arya at that moment.

 

"Why would he do that?"

 

"Ezio was demented and jealous of her," the man looked uncomfortable.

 

"Jealous?"

 

"My wife wasn't able to bear children after Ezio, but she craved to have a girl. When I took Cyara home, she was ecstatic; Ezio, not so much, but I thought it was natural for an only child to act that way." Syronno Nervetti made a long pause. "I gave them the best education I could, but my son was an idler while Cyara excelled despite being younger. She did willingly things I had to force on Ezio," he made a weak smile. "Eventually, my servants started to show more respect for her than my son, and he began to consider her a threat. The straw that broke the camel's back was the damned prophecy."

 

Jon felt a chill running down his spine. The first thing that came to his mind was the promised prince and Azor Ahai. Was everything because of him? He couldn't bring himself to ask the question. The magister noticed his uneasiness.

 

"I'm sorry. I spoke too much."

 

"Didn't you look for her?" That was something that had been bothering him. "You could have asked help from the Night's Watch or Winterfell."

 

"I searched the wrong place. Ezio pretended their ship had been attacked by slavers. Four years I stupidly registered the slavers' routes and harbors until my heart couldn't stand it any longer," he clenched his fists.

 

The magister looked completely wasted. Just remembering had taken its toll on him. Jon didn't know what to tell him.

 

"It's horrible, isn't it?" The man laughed bitterly. "To think that I procreated such a monster," his eyes overflowed guilt. "When I received the letter, I thought it was a fraud. Now I'm glad I came."

 

Syronno Nervetti kept talking a long time. Jon wasn't sure if it was correct for him to hear all that, but the man was relieved when he finished.

 

"I would be indebted to you if you could persuade her to speak to me," he was different from the man who had previously received Jon. "I swear I won't try to take her away." For some reason, the magister had believed their engagement was authentic. Jon decided it would be cruel to correct him at the moment.

 

Jon promised he would try to convince her. First he had to find her. Considering her reaction, she was probably on her way to the Wall already. He tried her cell first. Surprisingly enough, she was there.

 

"I thought you were leaving," he said when she let him in. Cyara had recovered her control.

 

"My reaction was childish," she acknowledged. "Did you get your answers?" She sat on the edge of the night table. She had set up the barrier again.

 

"Kind of, but I still don't know who contacted him." The magister had not been able to tell him either.

 

"It was Tyrion."

 

_I should have imagined it._

 

"Am I that unreliable?"

 

 _What am I doing?_ He had not gone there to pick up a fight.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"You wouldn't tell me a word, but he knew everything."

 

"I am free to tell whoever I want," she turned away. "And I knew you would make that face." The last was barely audible.

 

"Which face?"

 

"Like everything is your blame. You're making it right now."

 

_Why is she so considerate with me?_

 

"Perhaps it was my fault."

 

"Hah! And I thought Aegon was egocentric," she puffed. "The world doesn't revolve around you."

 

"He mentioned the prophecy." He could feel the color rising in his face.

 

"Syronno is a loudmouth, but he wasn't talking about _your_ prophecy," she made a dismissive gesture. "I'll assume he is here to finish the job." At that moment, she had resembled the magister's way of speaking.

 

"Stop joking. I think you should listen to him."

 

"Really? What did he tell you?" She asked with no visible interest.

 

"He said it was a misunderstanding."

 

"And you believed him? You truly have a good heart."

 

"I understand you are wary of him, but he looked sincere."

 

"Looks are deceiving," Cyara sighed. She moved to sit on the bed and lifted her head to stare at him. "Are you going to explain me the misunderstanding?"

 

 _Maybe she has waited all these years for it to be a mistake._ No matter how much she tried to hide it, it was something clearly important for her.

 

He sat beside her and tried to repeat the magister's words as faithfully as he could. From time to time, she interrupted to curse her cousin, but she didn't change her expression. Not until he told her sadness had driven Alyssa Nervetti to the grave.

 

At first Jon had not noticed she was crying for she had not made a sound. He only perceived her tears after she started to shiver. All he could do was stroke her back in absolute silence until she was done. Cyara wiped her tears and remained still, staring at the floor during almost an eternity.

 

"I'm going to speak to him," she nodded. "If he's telling the truth, Syronno might be our best chance to fortify the Wall."

 

_What did she just say?_

 

"You should go with him. With the magister here, Daenerys can't force you to anything."

 

"When I told you about the Kingsguard you were mad because I was going to leave," she gave him an irritated scowl. "Now, I'm supposed to leave?"

 

"Now it's different; he came for you." It was the right thing to do.

 

"Don't be foolish, Snow. You have been complaining because no one wants to help. And you plan to reject this chance?"

 

"Do you want to mislead him?" He had felt a strange empathy towards the man.

 

She doubted for an instant. "It might not be the best method, but if the Wall falls, the world will fall with it."

 

Jon considered it. With the dragons and the magister's support, they had higher chances to succeed. Although it wasn't the most honest thing to do.

_'It's you or no one, Jon.'_ He heard Bran's voice inside his head. For some reason that helped him to decide.

 

"Very well," he said with a nod. "We'll keep up with the farce for the sake of everyone."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought some might have liked to have more details about the weddings. With the beddings for example, but it didn't seem relevant for me at this point.
> 
> Please comment. I always enjoy your opinions.
> 
> Next Chapter: "Of dragons and flowers"


	24. Of Dragons and Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was especially difficult because I had to move the interactions between two characters forward, but I didn't want it to end being cheesy or unbelievable. Therefore, I rewrote parts of the dialog over and over again.  
> I don't know if I succeeded. This could be a great disaster (sigh). I complain a lot, sorry.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

 

 

CYARA

 

_We can precisely calculate the number of northerners. But the men from the Night's Watch and the free folk are a different matter. Will three ships of supplies per month be enough? We don't know how much time the war will last. The North should start to produce its own resources again. In that case, we will need myrish glass. Arya knows about medical remedies, but we shall ask Jon's friend about it when he replies. Can the citadel send more than one Maester to the North? I should also ... Damn, she noticed._

 

"Am I boring you?" Lady Arryn was looking at her like a reprimanding mother.

 

Sansa had been talking the whole morning about fabrics, meal courses and other things related to the wedding. When Syronno appeared, Connington's hatred had vanished. Now he wanted the farce to be similar to Aegon's. And since she hadn't shown the minimum interest in the matter, Sansa had happily taken control of the situation.

 

 _I don't care about what you're saying._ Being there with Sansa was a waste of time. She had her hands full with other preparations. Syronno had acceded to help the North, and she needed to seize the opportunity.

 

"You know this will be a fa..."

 

"A fantastic event?" Sansa interrupted her. "I know. That's why I'm doing my best to organize it, but you're not cooperating," she said impatiently.

 

_If this goes on, I'll kill myself before the damn ceremony._

 

"Why don't you decide everything?"

 

"Are you sure? It's your wedding." Apparently Sansa had started to consider her a human being as well.

 

"Look, I don't know a single thing about preparing a wedding. I'm sure it will go better if you take charge of it."

 

"That might be the smartest decision you have made until now, my friend," Sansa smiled.

 

 _Is Margaery Tyrell aware that Sansa is here?_ Cyara didn't think she would be pleased to know Sansa was _helping_ her. Or had the princess sent her to sabotage the preparations? _Whatever, it's all the same for me._

 

"Yes, yes, I'll leave everything in your hands. Now, could you give me some privacy?"

 

"Of course," Sansa smiled again. "You won't have to worry about anything. The wedding will be magnificent," Sansa blabbered as Cyara made an effort to avoid pushing her out of the room.

 

Once she was out, Cyara slumped in the chair of the solar and tried to pick up the track of her notes. She had to hand in the list of provisions they needed to Syronno as soon as possible. He had taught her about trading and prices, but that had been a long time ago, so it had taken her a lot of time to finish the accounts.

 

 _At this rate, my inheritance should last three years, maybe four._ The North had to become self-sufficient by then. _Maybe I should ask Syronno to invest part of it in one of his business to make it last longer._ If possible, she didn’t want to take anything from his fortune. The only thing she needed from him was to act as a mediator to buy the supplies from Essos.

 

Cyara finished after a couple of hours. She stretched and stared at the empty chamber. It was stupidly big. Daenerys had assigned her one room in Maegor's Holdfast after Syronno arrived. As if that could change something. On the other hand, she had to admit it was funny to see her and Connington being wary of Syronno.

 

Someone knocked the door. _Must be another self-serving rat._ She had received uncountable visits from Ladies who had whispered behind her back and now wanted to offer her their best wishes. She had barely left the room the last days to avoid encounters with the curious court. _It was easier to be the paria than the main attraction of the Red Keep._

 

"Come in," she said in the end. "Ah, it was you," she said when Jon entered as morose as ever. "I thought we were going to meet later."

 

"Were you expecting someone else?"

 

"My paramour, but it won't happen now you are here." She sighed when she saw his expression. "It was a joke." Jon seemed to be suffering more than she was with the fake wedding. "I finished the list," she passed it to him. "We should ask your friend's opinion, though."

 

"This will be expensive."

 

"It's my problem to deal with that," she shrugged.

 

"I don't think the North will be able to repay you."

 

 _Again with that,_ she thought angrily.

 

"I don't remember asking you to do that," he didn't answer. "Are we going to have this argument again?"

 

"I'd prefer not to take advantage of you," he had lowered his gaze.

 

"How much do you need?"

 

"How?!" He asked surprised.

 

"It's written all over your guilty face."

 

"I talked to Galbart and Maege this morning. We agreed we need to make sure Daenerys won't try something while we are dealing with the Others," he opened and closed his burnt hand as he did whenever he had some inner conflict. "They only got half of the gold to pay the Iron Bank."

 

"You want me to provide the other half. Don't you think she would suspect?"

 

_Will a debt be enough to keep her under control?_

"I was wondering if you could ask your uncle to do it."

 

"Why him?"

 

"Daenerys wants more every time we grant her something. She won't dare to act that way with the magister."

 

_That could be true._

 

"You can ask him yourself during dinner. He won't refuse." Syronno seemed to like Jon, and he would do anything he believed might please her.

 

"I'll do that," he paused for an instant. "I brought you something," he said hesitantly.

 

"Did you?" Cyara asked absentmindedly; she was already considering the repercussions of lending gold to the Iron Throne.

 

 _Ridiculous Westerosi customs,_ she thought after opening the wooden case; there was a silver hairnet adorned with small pearls.  _It's not like he has to woo me,_ she thought with a scowl.

 

Cyara had resolved to set aside what she felt from the day Daenerys had made her move. They had to focus on more important things.  She could endure the act that everyone was putting up. However, Jon taking part made her feel angry and hurt to a certain degree.

 

"Let me guess," she said as she examined the _present_. "Connington ordered you to do it, and Sansa picked it up." Cyara returned the hairnet to the case. "I thought we wouldn't do these futilities."

 

"It wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable."

 

 _Moron, he doesn't know because you have not told him._ Cyara thought after seeing the way he had recoiled at her words. Jon was not responsible for her distress.

 

"It is not your fault." She looked for a way to change the topic. "Ah, how could I forget? I have something for you as well."

 

Cyara stood and went to the night table to retrieve a box she had received the previous day. She handed it to a confused Jon. He opened with a frown; only the gods knew what he was expecting to find inside.

 

"Where did you get this?" He asked surprised as he examined the dragonglass arrowhead.

 

"There are deposits of that stuff at Dragonstone. Connington sent a couple of ships to deliver it."

 

"Connington?" Jon stared at her skeptically.

 

"The jerk has been very obliging recently," she couldn't repress a chuckle. "I think he's afraid that I will tell Syronno about his treatment if he denies me something."

 

"I was wondering why he looked so stressed," he said with a faint smile.

 

_He should smile more frequently._

 

"I thought only the children of the forest were able to handle dragonglass."

 

"I searched the Street of Steel to find a skilled smith. Tobho Mott was the only one who was able to manipulate the glass. He said it was similar to work with Valyrian Steel."

 

"How many of these will he produce before we leave?"

 

"He said a few more than a thousand, two hundred daggers and maybe half a dozen of swords."

 

"It's not enough." Jon tapped the table with his fingers. "Do you think he would consider coming with us?"

 

"No, but I sent four boys from Flea Bottom to assist him. _They_ will travel North with us." Jon was stunned; he might have considered the idea dishonest. "His work is expensive. I'd prefer to save for other things," she explained.

 

"No, it’s a good idea.”

 

"One of Syronno’s lessons.” She had a glance at the sunset through the window. “Speaking of which, he might be waiting for us."

 

Syronno received them personally when they made it to his chamber. He effusively clapped Jon's shoulder before kissing her cheek. He believed, or wanted to believe there was something real between her and Jon.

 

 _Better that he keeps the idea; he has suffered enough._ He had sent his own son to prison, and Alyssa Nervetti, his wife, had died of sorrow.

 

The table was served richly. It was the best meal she had had in years, and still she barely ate. Syronno had, without the doubt, ordered to prepare her favorite dishes, but he could have served anything else. It would have been all the same for her.

 

Cyara had thought that she would cry again when she spoke with Syronno the first time. That she would run to him as she had done so many times when he returned from one of his business trips. Or that they would speak during hours about what had happened and what they would do from then on. None of those occurred.

 

 _Eight years is quite a long time._ Their first reunion had been little more than one held between two strangers. The next were related strictly to the North. She couldn't bring herself to call him father again; it sounded fake. She was not the person Syronno had searched.

 

"You have to come to Pentos after fixing your affairs at the North," was the first thing she truly understood from the conversation.

 

"That might take years," she spoke for the first time.

 

"I will wait," he said with a hopeful expression that was unbearable for her.

 

The rest of the dinner went on similarly to the first part. They left after Syronno said he would receive Tyrion the next day.

 

"You were right when you said he wouldn't refuse."

 

"I guess the father in him overcomes the merchant's common sense."

 

"He's a good man."

 

"I know.”

 

"The hairnet thing," he hesitated before continuing. "I thought I should make it look realer for him. If he realizes..."

 

"He will suffer. I get it."

 

_I should have imagined it._

 

Jon stopped suddenly and turned to her. "What happens when everything ends?"

 

 _You mean if it ends._ Fighting the Others wouldn't be like taking King's Landing.

 

"I don't know."

 

 _Does it matter?_ There was no use thinking about something that had no happened yet. _But with some luck, when the time comes, I will have resolved what to do with these feelings._

TYRION

 

"Ten million golden dragons is quite a large amount of gold." Syronno Nervetti was as impassive as the first day Tyrion saw him.

 

"Magisters are famous for managing large amounts of gold."

 

"But we're not famous for lending the gold," he sipped his wine. "At least not to strangers."

 

 _What does he want?_ He could have refused to meet Tyrion from the beginning.

 

"Illyrio Mopatis lent the same amount to the Crown already."

 

The truth was Tyrion had only asked for five million from the cheesemonger; the other five proceeded from Highgarden. He had preferred to save the largest debt for Syronno Nervetti; it was safest for the Crown. The man had to be cunning to some degree. Otherwise, he wouldn't be a magister or a successful merchant. However, his greatest weakness was about to marry the brother of the future King of Westeros.

 

 _I'm doing them a favor_. If they had children, those kids would own half of the Royal Ark, with all that that entailed. _Although, that's highly improbable right now._

 

"Is that supposed to encourage me?” the man arched a brow. “I have a policy of never following my fellow magister. It’s hardly beneficial," he said nonchalantly.

 

 _So he doesn't get along with the cheesemonger._ Tyrion was starting to like the man.

 

"If the Crown doesn't pay to the Iron Bank, Westeros might suffer a cruel destiny, the North included. Where would that leave your cherished violet?"

 

"I could intercede after the Iron Bank finishes the debtor. Then my violet would end better positioned," he said casually as he stared at the landscape.

 

 _That was quite the declaration._ It was definitely better if Varys didn't inform the Queen of the details of the reunion. Fortunately, Tyrion had decided to meet him outside to reduce the possibilities of being heard; it was still serious.

 

"It might be difficult for a violet to grow in the same environment as a rose."

 

"Isn't that fortunate for the roses?"

 

 _How much does he know?_ According to Varys, Cyara had not uttered a word about the incident with the Faith or the Queen and her Hand’s treatment. _But Varys is not infallible._ The Magister didn’t have an army, but he had enough gold to hire a couple of Faceless Assassins. Perhaps is better not to push him to his limit.

 

"What is it that you want, my Lord?" Tyrion decided to be more direct.

 

"I want to know why the brother of the Crown Prince would need a guarantee against the Iron Throne."

 

"A guarantee? He surely did this for is brother's sake."

 

"He was expelled from the Royal Family. I don't see why he would move a finger to favor the Silver Prince."

 

"The Prince had nothing to do with that incident. Jon’s relationship with his brother is different from the one he has with his aunt."

 

Syronno Nervetti rested his elbows on the table and joined the fingers of both hands. He stared at Tyrion for a long time as if he were expecting for him to say something. Tyrion decided he wasn’t going to relent this time.

 

"Such kindness is inspiring," he finally said. "I'll provide the gold."

 

Tyrion wished he could be able to know what the Magister was thinking.

 

"The Queen will be grateful to hear that."

 

"She should hear who convinced me as well, Lord Tyrion."

 

"It will be my pleasure to inform her." Tyrion offered him a smile.

 

The Dragon Queen had made more than one enemy during that feast.

 

* * *

 

 

"You took a big risk," Tyrion's words transformed into steam in front of him.

 

There had not been a snowfall since Jaime's wedding, but that hadn't decreased the cold. With all its trees and stuff, the godswood was the coldest place in the Red Keep.

 

"I don't consider it a risk." Her sweet voice emanated from the cover provided by the cloak's hood.

 

"What if the Magister had wanted her dead for real?"

 

"Oh, please," Sansa said almost impatiently. "What was the worst that could have happened?"

 

"He could have hired a Faceless Assassin."

 

"So what? She stopped Arya."

 

_Arya wasn't after her, still, she has a point._

 

"What was it that you didn't like about Arianne Martell?" Tyrion had been curious for a while, but they had not been able to meet for a while.

 

"The Queen wasn't going to allow that union from the beginning," she shrugged. "I merely made a suggestion."

 

"What if the Magister had ignored your letter?"

 

"At least I would have prevented my dear cousin from marrying one of the Queen's spies."

 

"You made quite an achievement."

 

"The result was good for them as well."

 

_Oh, yes. They're overjoyed._

 

 "Do they know you're using them in your personal revenge against the rose?"

 

"I thought it was _our_ revenge." He could feel Sansa's intense stare on him. "In any case, this is also a way to make justice for them." He didn't have to see her face to know he was smiling. "Margaery will keep wondering what would have happened if the Magister had arrived earlier."

 

"As if you had allowed that to occur," he snorted. Everything had gone according to her plan.

 

"I'm not a warrior, nor a great leader or an assassin with unique abilities, but I have my methods. They will have to understand that."

 

_Baelish's methods._

 

"Anyhow, I don't want to delay you anymore, Lady Arryn. Your Lord husband must be wondering where you are."

 

"Harry is busy trying to convince the Lords from the Vale to send help to the Riverlands. I am on my way to help prepare the bride for the great day."

 

 _I thought the heir would put up a better fight before becoming her puppet. Maybe Baelish taught Sansa more than politics._ Tyrion found the perspective pretty repulsive.

 

"This talk was so enlightening that I almost forgot about that. I shall go to prepare myself too."  

 

Tyrion returned to his chambers and sat in front of the chimney with a flask of wine to warm up. He still had time before Pod went to help him.

 

 _Good that I finally managed to get on pair with Sansa._ His and Jaime's trials had created him a worrisome debt with the young Lady Arryn. Setting the gold issue with Syronno Nervetti had, in a way, helped him to repay her. She had refused to tell him in detail about her plans against the Tyrells, but apparently the loan was beneficial for them. Sansa didn't have to know it had been Jon who convinced the Magister and not him. _I also can keep secrets._

 

Tyrion found Jaime and Brienne at the main yard. The three of them would share a litter to the Great Sept of Baelor. Tyrion knew they were a hilarious group. Jaime was almost as tall as his wife, but Tyrion, standing by their side, looked like a child.

 

"Blue suits you, my Lady," he offered as greeting and his good sister blushed at the comment.

 

"Thank you, Lord Tyrion. Ser Jaime told me the same."

 

"Really? It's the first time I hear about it," he said with a questioning smile as he glanced at Jaime.

 

 _Perhaps I don't know my brother as well as I thought._ Having Brienne by his side could be more beneficial for Jaime than Tyrion had imagined.

 

"Shut up, woman!" Jaime spat. "I said the color makes you look less ridiculous than the rest." He regarded Tyrion. "Why must we attend the bastard's wedding?"

 

"You can ask that to the Queen directly. As for me, the Lord of Winterfell considers me a friend." That was if Jon had not changed his mind.

 

"You have influential friends, brother."

 

"Considering your situation with the Queen, becoming friends with the Ice Dragon wouldn't hurt you."

 

"That is next to impossible."

 

_True enough._

 

"Then, you should leave everything on your wife's hands." The Starks seemed to have some considerations towards Brienne.

 

_And wish that the new Lady Stark decides not to tell what she knows about Bran Stark._

 

"If she manages to keep them from asking for my head, that would be excellent," Jaime answered angrily.

 

His brother took Brienne's arm and pulled her to their litter so hard that another woman would have complained. Tyrion shook his head; if he had been in her place, he would have already beaten up Jaime for being such a goon.

 

Their journey to the Sept would have been completely silent if not for Tyrion. As Jaime had decided to remain mute, he talked to Brienne about Casterly Rock and Lannisport. It reminded him of a time when he had tried to do the same with Sansa. The difference was that Brienne, be it for the formalities or real interest, was paying attention to him.

 

The Sept was almost full when they arrived. Jaime and Brienne remained at the rear while Tyrion took his place with the rest of the members of the Small Council. He was surprised to see that the dornish princess had assisted. Shortly after, Syronno Nervetti made his entrance with his daughter.

 

 _A bride for Winterfell through and through._ Cyara was already wearing the Stark colors. The gown was of pearl gray silk and silver lace; a silver hairnet with pearls adorned her hair. The Magister didn't have a sigil, but they had used purple velvet with a silver violet for the maiden cloak.

 

 _Sansa knew what she was doing._ The court wouldn't be able to associate the bride with the protagonist of the scandals. There was a world of difference between them. _Well, maybe not everyone can be deceived._

 

Tyrion saw Cyara chuckle at the High Septon's terrified reaction when she took her place beside Jon. However, that was the only time he saw her or Jon smile through the whole ceremony. They had the face of someone who was suffering a torment. Jon felt guilty for misleading the Magister; Tyrion was sure, and Cyara; it couldn't be easy for her to be there, considering she did feel something for Jon.

 

As the exchange of cloaks took place, Tyrion wondered whether Jon felt something for her. They had been together a while, shared an exceptionally heavy burden, and a peculiar complicity. It was already more than most of the arranged marriages, but that wasn't necessarily a synonym for love.

 

It had started to snow heavily when the ceremony ended, so there were few congratulations, and no cheering from the crowd for the couple. Everyone rushed to return to the shelter of their houses or the Red Keep.

 

The Throne Room was warm and filled with a delicious smell when he entered. The feast would be smaller than the Silver Prince's but not less luxurious. Syronno Nervetti was pretty generous if his daughter was involved.

 

 _And I thought I had hated my wedding feast._ Tyrion thought as he savored the buttered seafood with saffron sauce.

 

Jon and Cyara looked more than uncomfortable and were barely paying attention to each other. Not that someone, aside from the Magister, Sansa, and him, had noticed. Sansa stood from her place with a brilliant smile and directed to the main table. There, she whispered something to the couple who only scowled deeply in response.

 

 _I should start to get drunk._ The feast was heading directly to a disaster.

 

 

 

JON

 

He could hear Aegon's voice, but he couldn't understand what his brother was saying. Only when the Lords and Ladies raised their cups, he noted it had been a toast.

 

Jon had been thinking the whole time about the farce they were rendering. It felt wrong to marry Cyara just to get gold for the North, but then again, wasn't that the same he was going to do by marrying Arianne? Perhaps his insecurity originated in the fact that Cyara had been very upset throughout the entire process. It could also be that he was officially breaking another of his vows to the Night's Watch. He had believed that he had left that subject well behind.

 

"You have a charming sister," Cyara muttered.

 

_Arya?_

 

"What are you talking about?"

 

"Looks like she expects us to eat from the same plate, and drink from the same cup."

 

 _Sansa..._ She might have thought it was the height of romanticism.

 

"Not that we can do something about it." Cyara was staring at her hands absentmindedly.

 

Jon offered her the cup when the servants filled it again. She refused it.

 

"I don't drink wine; it dulls the senses," she offered as an explanation.

 

"Sorry. I didn't remember."

 

"If you didn't know was because I never told you," she had not looked at him this time either.

 

 _This situation is worse than the time we were traveling to meet Howland Reed._ Plus now, they had an audience. Jon didn't even want to try turning to see Syronno, he could feel his intense stare upon them.

 

"Would it kill you both to smile a little?" Sansa appeared with her bright smile after the second course. "This isn't going to end well if you keep this attitude."

 

"What would you like us to do?" Cyara asked plainly.

 

"You could start smiling, talking to each other more cheerfully, and of course I expect you to open the dance floor," she left without even waiting for their response.

 

Jon was trying to decide what he could tell to Cyara. Not because of what Sansa had said, but it was awful to continue like that the whole night. However, he doubted she would like to listen to a compliment or anything of the sort.

 

"This is too much, don't you think?" Cyara was the one who spoke. "The feast, I mean," she made a gesture towards the plates. "It's almost offensive."

 

_I couldn't agree more._

 

"It almost makes me miss your terrible roasted squirrels," he said without thinking. That comment could make things worse.

 

"Those squirrels prevented you from starving." She turned to him with a deep frown that unexpectedly transformed into a peculiar smile. "Perhaps we should have served squirrels instead of seafood."

 

"Imagine the faces of the Lords and Ladies." He scoffed at the thought. "It could have been a remarkable event."

 

"Another scandal to add to our list. I'm starting to regret not giving it a try."

 

"Seriously?"

 

"Someone has to keep these people entertained," she answered with a wry grin.

 

Jon realized that might be the most pointless talk they had ever had, but it had rid the dark mood that had surrounded them ever since the ceremony. The silence returned right after, yet it wasn't that awkward anymore.

 

"I must apologize," she blurted while the bard sang the Dance of the Dragons.

 

 _Apologize?_ He must have heard wrong.

 

"I..." She had shifted in the chair and was now facing him with the earnest expression. "I decided to carry on with this, still, I've been irrationally annoyed the whole time," she grimaced. "I couldn't care less about the court's whispers, but I abhor their change of treatment, and I ended up unfairly venting my anger on you."

 

Jon was somewhat relieved after hearing her; those words explained her recent hostility had not been for something directly related to their settlement.

 

"It's a natural way to react."

 

"There's one more thing," she fidgeted with the tablecloth before continuing, "I'm also trying to atone not understanding how you felt."

 

"What do you mean?" Jon was positively confused at this point.

 

"I kept insisting about how you should accept you were a prince. I hadn't comprehended it could be incredibly hard to adapt to a change of circumstances."

 

Jon could only nod for he was not sure of which kind of answer he should provide. More than Cyara had come to understand that aspect of him, what bewildered Jon was that she had made a disclosure about herself.

 

"Does that mean we are good?" Jon dared to ask after a moment of reflection.

 

"I guess so," she took the cup, gave it a sip, and made a face. "But don't expect me to feed you in the mouth or open the dance floor."

 

"Fair enough."

 

In the end, Aegon and Margaery opened the dance floor. Sansa shot them a disapproving stare, during an eternity, but it only made them laugh. Even Syronno looked calmer; he was conversing with Tyrion.

 

"Ah, now I get why they were calling you dragonfly," Cyara commented after the bard sang Jenny of Oldstones. "Were all Targaryens fond of fire?"

 

"Maybe, but some were more dangerous than others." He unconsciously thought of Daenerys.

 

"Like Aerion Brightflame?"

 

Jon was about to ask her how she knew about that man but was interrupted by a hysterical scream, demanding for the bedding. The first one was followed by a second and a third until the whole place was requesting for it.

 

"Like hell I'll let that happen." Cyara had stood up abruptly, nearly knocking down the chair in the process.

 

Jon didn't like the idea of the bedding either so he was kind of relieved when she pulled his arm and dragged him out of the Throne Room through the King's door. Some of the attendants followed them and were shouting bawdy jokes right behind them.

 

"Damn perverts," Cyara muttered after locking the door. "Are they planning to stay there the whole night?" She asked with a frown.

 

"They will get tired eventually."

 

"Eventually..." she sighed. "Whatever, I'm too tired to deal with them."

 

Cyara took some clothes from the trunk at the feet of the bed before walking behind the room divider. Jon could still hear some drunken Lords shouting outside. He sat on the bed and got rid of his boots; he suddenly felt drained.

 

 Jon yawned, lied down on the bed and recalled the day; it had ended better than he had expected, given the events. He had assumed the time after the feast would be awkward, but he had been wrong. _It must be because it's not the first time we sleep in the same room._

 

He fell asleep shortly after.

 

* * *

 

 

I took him a couple of seconds to recognize the sound that had woke him was as someone knocking at the door. He sat up and turned to the other side of the bed. There was no one there, but it wouldn't be strange for Cyara to get up before he did. He walked to attend the door but something caught his eye.

 

 _Did she stay there the whole night?_ Cyara was still sleeping on a chair by the window. He got closer and shook her shoulder.

 

"What?" Her eyes slightly opened.

 

"Why would you sleep here?" A possible reason flashed in his mind. "If you feel uncomfortable because you think I might try something..."

 

"Hah!" she laughed while rubbing her eyes. "Come on, it's more probable for me to assault you."

 

"Then why?" He knew his face might be red by then.

 

"I guess it was out of habit."

 

"It's not like you have to keep guarding me."

 

"Fine, fine, I won't do it again," she stood up. "I think there's someone outside," she added before reaching the water basin.

 

He opened the door to find a couple of servants that had come to serve them breakfast. Jon allowed them to enter to set the table since they had barely eaten the night before.

 

"Leave us," Cyara ordered when the servants had finished. "Sorry, I can't stand to be tended every minute."

 

"Don't worry. It's the same for me."

 

"One flesh, one heart, one soul," she joked raising her cup; he answered with the same gesture. "Which reminds me, am I expected to be with you all the time?"

 

"No. Why?"

 

"I need to visit that thief at the Street of Steel today. I want to make sure he's doing his job properly."

 

_The dragonglass._

 

"Do you think those weapons will make a difference?"

 

"Against the White Walkers, sure. The problem is the army of wights; they utterly outnumber us," she stared at him. "If the Night's Watch and the free folk have been fighting ever since we left..."

 

"That would mean they have increased their numbers."

 

"Although, ultimately we'll count the dragons."

 

 _The dragons are useful as they are dangerous._ They could lose control and cause more damage than benefit. And he had other worries besides magical creatures.

 

Jon had sent letters to every northern Lord to inquire about the state of the place. He just got a response from White Harbor, and the only important thing he learned was that Rickon was alive. The rest have remained silent, more likely because they were still under the Bolton's or Stannis's commands. Before the battle at the Wall, he would have to solve political matters; he wasn't sure if he could manage those things in time.

 

"They are in no position to oppose you," she had noticed his discomfort.

 

"What if they refuse despite everything?"

 

"They'll have to choose between dealing with you and dealing with Rhaegal."

 

"Fire and Blood."

 

Jon didn't like the sound of it, but they were running out of time.

 

 

 

AEGON

 

"I don't want to have lunch with them, Aegon," Margaery complained.

 

"Why not?" He said without really paying attention. He was reviewing the plan of action to put an order in the Riverlands and the Westerlands.

 

"You're leaving the day after tomorrow, dear," Margaery sat on the arm of his chair and threw her arms around his neck. "I'd like to have you for myself until then," she whispered in his ear.

 

"You're very sweet, Margaery," he kissed her cheek, "but I'd like to spend some time with Jon before we leave."

 

She stood up abruptly and looked him with a frown, "You're going to travel with your brother half of the journey. Do you prefer to spend time with him than your young wife?"

 

_Is she serious?_

 

"It's not like we're going to be playing, Margaery. We have different matters to solve."

 

"But I won't be able to see you for a long time." There was insecurity in her face.

 

 _Maybe she's just scared._ She had lost three husbands already.

 

"We have the rest of our lives to be together. We'll be able to spend more time with each other once I put the remaining Kingdoms under control."

 

"Why can't you send someone else?"

 

"Because," he stood and cupped her face, "I want to know the Realm and its people personally. I want to be a good king."

 

"You'll be an excellent King, my love," she kissed him. Aegon answered fervently; he liked the way she kissed him.

 

From the first night, Aegon had known Margaery had not been a maiden. She was way too experienced for a maiden, yet he had not cared. It could be because he had grown up at Essos, where those things were trivial, but he had never thought something like that determined the value of a woman. However, he had not uttered a word to avoid offending her.

 

"Are you sure you want to share the table with your brother and his wife?" Margaery said panting when they separated. "We could try to bring another dragon into this world," her voice low and seductive.

 

That had been another subject of discussion between them. Margaery had been anxious to give him an heir while he wanted to wait. Aegon wanted to get closer, to have time for themselves before dedicating their lives to a child. Apparently Margaery felt she wouldn't consolidate her position as princess until she managed to provide him a successor.

 

"Nothing would make me happier, Margaery, but they must be waiting for us."

 

"Fine," she made a lovely pout before taking his arm.

 

They walked to the gardens of the Red Keep. The weather had gotten better recently, and they had the opportunity to eat outside. He heard Jon's voice when they were getting near.

 

"How many times will I have to apologize?"

 

"You could have warned me it was going to hurt the next day."

 

"How was I supposed to know it was your first time?" Jon's tone was rueful.

 

"You don't have to be a genius," Cyara was massaging her temples when she noticed them. Rarely enough, she was wearing a gown. "Their Graces are here, Jon."

 

"If we interrupted something..."

 

"It's not what you're thinking, Your Grace. We got drunk yesterday, and I have a terrible headache. Right?" She nudged Jon in the ribs.

 

"Right," Jon snorted, then cleared his throat, "we thought you were not going to come."

 

"Sorry, I was checking the route of the journey." He sat at the head of the table and Margaery to his right. "There's a lot of work to do."

 

They kept commenting on their departure and other issues related to the North. Aegon wanted to make sure he knew as much as he could even if he wouldn't intervene directly. Despite what Connington and Daenerys wanted, he had assured Jon the North would be independent in everything but name. Still, it was not like he would forget the North existed.

 

"I'll go to Winterfell as soon as I finish in the Westerlands."

 

"You didn't tell me about that," Margaery sounded upset.

 

"I thought it was obvious, Margaery. Among the Seven Kingdoms, the North is the one that needs more attention."

 

"I believed your brother was able to take care of everything."

 

Aegon saw Jon and Cyara exchanging an uneasy stare. He didn't want to fight with Margaery, not in front of them.

 

"Not going would be neglecting the North. I'm sorry if I didn't make it clear from the beginning." Margaery wasn't satisfied, but they would have time for that later. "It was a shame that your uncle had to leave so soon, Cyara," he tried to change the topic.

 

"He is a busy man." Her answers were always brief when she talked to him.

 

"You must feel sad now that he left. Have you considered visiting him at Pentos?" Margaery inquired.

 

"Now isn't the right moment, princess."

 

"As a newlywed your place is with your husband, but the North seems like a dangerous place for a Lady."

 

"I'm not much of a Lady, Princess."

 

"But you are," Margaery smiled charmingly. "I suspected something from the beginning. Didn't I told you I thought a Lady's life would suit you?"

 

"I would like the Faith to share your opinion, princess."

 

Aegon saw Margaery flinch at the remark, but her loss of composure didn't last. She changed her expression to a comprenhensive smile.

 

"That must have been a horrible experience for you."

 

"That isn't a convenient thing to remember for anyone, princess," Jon interceded. He had a hand on Cyara's forearm.

 

He wasn't sure what had just occurred, but he didn't have time to ponder about it. At that moment, Aegon got the sensation that something serious was about to happen. He couldn't grasp what it was until he heard the familiar roar, followed by screams.

 

 _It can't be._ His fears were confirmed when he saw Jon's face.

 

"Drogon shouldn't be this close from the city."

 

"It isn't Drogon; it's Rhaegal."

 

"How do you know?"

 

"I just... know."

 

"It's not only Rhaegal," Cyara signaled to the sky.

 

 _Viserion_. Both dragons had somehow escaped Storm's End. Aegon prayed they had not killed anyone in the process.

 

"Duck, take Margaery somewhere safe and stay with her."

 

"Aegon, wait," she protested.

 

"Go with him, Margaery," he turned to a guard. "Go look for the Queen; we might need the horn."

 

The two dragons had landed at the outer yard when he got there; they had cornered a group of people at the stables. Servants, Lords, and Knights were equally terrorized. No one dared to move for they feared the slightest thing might upset the beasts. Daenerys appeared with Ser Barristan and Daario Naharis trailing behind her; the last was carrying the horn.

 

"Rhaegal, Viserion," she called them as she approached slowly. "Rhaegal," she got closer to the green dragon first.

 

Rhaegal turned and snarled at her. Ser Barristan pulled Daenerys right in time to avoid an attack from Viserion. Daenerys stood still for a moment, but she asked for the horn after regaining her demeanor. Aegon could see her breathing deeply before blowing the artifact. A deafening, unnatural sound reverberated inside the Red Keep; it felt as if the place would crumble into pieces.

 

The result wasn't what they were expecting. Far from obeying, the dragons got more upset. They took flight once again, destroying the stables in the process. They looked ready to breath fire upon the place. Aegon prepared for the worse.

 

"RHAEGAL!"

 

At some point, Jon had stepped into the yard and was calling the dragon.

 

"RHAEGAL, COME!" He ordered.

 

 _What is he doing?_ Not even Daenerys had been able to dominate them.

 

The green dragon roared before obeying; he was standing in front of Jon, observing him. Aegon didn't know what drove him to do such an insanity; before realizing, he was standing in the yard, calling Viserion.

 

"VISERION!" he repeated.

 

The cream dragon circled the Red Keep a couple of times, then landed in front of him.

 

"Now what?" He whispered to Jon.

 

"We have to get them out of here," Jon didn't look very enthusiastic. "The Kingswood will do."

 

Jon approached cautiously and got on Rhaegal's back. Aegon did the same with Viserion. His fears vanished when he felt the warmth of the scales. He had the rare certainty that Viserion wasn't going to hurt him or anyone else.

 

 _Viserion responds only to me, like Rhaegal to Jon;_ he realized it. A single glance at Daenerys' expression told him she had realized as well.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know most of you have been waiting for Jon to explode and face Daenerys directly, but that would take the story into a direction that isn't useful for me. (not now)  
> The good new is that we're finally moving away from KL.
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting.
> 
> Next chapter: "The Gods Eye"


	25. The Gods Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news: Slightly early update.  
> The bad news: Slightly shorter chapter.
> 
> I'm still trying to balance the development of the relationship between Jon and Cyara with the important stuff. I don't even know if they have moved from the start point. (I think I need to read more romance)
> 
> Thanks for all the great comments. Enjoy the chapter!

 

 

CYARA

 

_I had forgotten about them._ That was her first thought when she saw the track indicating the wolf's pack was near. The beasts wouldn't get near to the column, but the pack itself wasn't what made her worry. The only reason they had been following the procession was Nymeria and Ghost were guiding them. _When will you give me some peace, Brynden?_

 

 She stood up and directed to her horse; she had to return to the castle before the snow started to fall. She perceived movement right behind her and knew she would have difficulties.

 

"You found me. I surrender," she sighed. There was no use in trying to get away. "Come, I'll take you to the castle."

 

There was a new layer of snow upon Harrenhal when they made it to the entrance. The snow, combined with the ruins of the towers, made the place look colder and depressing. She handed the reins of the horse to one of the sentinels.

 

"Lady Stark, we have been looking for you. You shouldn't leave the castle alone."

 

_No one cared when I was a wildling._ In the end, Cyara decided to ignore that and the way she had been addressed.

 

"I wasn't alone, see?" she signaled to her companion. The guard was about to protest; she interrupted him immediately, "there's a wolf pack very close. I don't think they will become a problem, but the explorers should be careful."

 

"Yes, my Lady."

 

Most of the place was deserted. Those who didn't have a job to do had already searched the shelter of the hearth at the main hall. The few who were outside widened their eyes when they saw her companion.

 

The guard in front of the door bowed when she entered. Cyara grimaced; she wasn't used to be on the other side yet.

 

"Someone came to see you, Snow," she said as she hung her cloak.

 

Jon was reading parchments at the dining table. "I told the guards it was enough..." He widely smiled when he saw Ghost; the dire wolf got nearer to sniff at him. "I missed you, buddy," Jon scratched the wolf behind the ears. "Where did you find him?"

 

"He found me while I was outside," she sat at the table. "Did we get good news?" She took one of the parchments to give it a look.

 

"There's still no answer from the Wall, but Sam will join us at the Neck. Three Maesters come with him." Jon looked happy to know he would see his friend again.

 

"How cooperative." They had asked for six. "How much time are we going to stay here?"

 

"Until Randyll Tarly returns from Maidenpool with the northern prisoners."

 

"At least another week," she pursed her lips. "Is it imperative to wait for them?"

 

"I don't want to delay my meeting with Harrion Karstark. I'd like to add the Karstarks forces to our host."

 

"Do you have to take that risk? Surely Alys Karstark would help you."

 

Harrion Karstark had motives to reject and act against Jon. He would have enough trouble trying to prompt the Lords and the Watch to cooperate with the free folk already.

 

"Alys married Sigorn Thenn; the Karstarks won't follow her with her older brother still alive. Plus, I had nothing to do with his father's beheading."

 

_I'll have to keep an eye on that Karstark._

 

"You're being strangely optimistic; maybe Harrenhal is enchanted after all."

 

"Maybe," he frowned. "Why do you want to leave? Has something gone wrong at the Wall?"

 

She unconsciously gave a side glance to Ghost, "to be honest, I don't know." It had been long since she last communicated with Brynden. "But that's not the problem. I'd prefer to keep the wildfire's cart moving."

 

"I thought the cold weather and the sword would be enough to prevent an accident."

 

They surrounded the flasks with fresh snow every day, and _Heartfreezer_ remained unsheathed in the cart to keep the temperature low.

 

"We can never be too cautious when it comes to wildfire."

 

Traveling with wildfire was dangerous, although not as dangerous as dragons. After Rhaegal and Viserion appeared unexpectedly at the Red Keep Jon had decided it would be better if the beasts stayed at the reconstructed Dragonpit. He would call Rhaegal once they had made it to the Wall, and only if necessary. That way he wouldn't have to be concerned about controlling the dragon the whole time.

 

"I'll try to rush the departure," he fell silent for a moment and stared at her.

 

"What?"

 

"The guards complained again."

 

"Ugh, I hate to have them following me all the time," she tossed the parchment on the table.

 

Cyara couldn't stand to stay in a single place not doing anything. She liked checking on the supplies or helping the crannogmen with the scouting. The guards were always getting in her way.

 

"They are concerned about your safety."

 

_The gold's safety would be more accurate._ The northerners had never been very friendly with her.

 

"I've been alone in more dangerous places," she shrugged.

 

"I promised your uncle that I would take care of you," his tone was sincere, but the words had made her upset.

 

She found herself wishing stupidly his concern wouldn't be related to a commitment made to someone else. She felt the urge to get out of there.

 

"I can't promise anything," she stood up. "I'll go and check the wildfire."

 

She ended in the godswood. One way or another she always ended there when she was upset.

 

"I heard you have had trouble being a proper Lady." Arya appeared behind a tree.

 

"Are you going to teach me?" She asked sarcastically.

 

"You should have asked Sansa because you are driving the guards crazy." Arya had her wolfish smile.

 

"You are in no position to say that."

 

Arya disappeared more frequently than she did. Only the gods knew where she went or what she was doing. The difference was no one made a fuss about that.

 

"I know they were rude with you at the beginning, but they don't want to bother you."

 

"They are exaggerating," she took a pebble from the floor and threw it against a tree.

 

"That is because they think you could be risking the existence of an heir."

 

At that moment she realized the northerners expected certain things from her, and it would get worse with time. Her irritation transformed into unease; she didn't know whether she could handle that.

 

"I'm not..." Saying it made her more uncomfortable.

 

"Carrying a wolf pup? Some like to think you are," she shrugged. "I'm just explaining their behaviour."

 

"Well, I am not."

 

_And I will never._ Even if they had grown slightly closer, it was clear that Jon didn’t want that sort of relationship. At least not with her. He was always incredibly cautious.

 

"Which is wonderful for me because I need to ask you something." Arya's expression turned serious. "I have reasons to suspect there is a Faceless Assassin among the servants."

 

"Again?"

 

Arya nodded. "There are two persons worthy of hiring a Faceless Assassin here," she had lowered her tone.

 

_Wonderful._ That was the last thing they needed.

 

"What do you want me to do?"

 

"For the time being, become Jon's shadow. It will be less suspicious that way. I'll take care of the Silver Prince."

 

"Will they keep coming if they fail?" She wondered how longer they would be able to stop such menace.

 

"Not if we reach an agreement."

 

"Is that even possible?"

 

"The gift must be delivered, but the name can be changed," Arya said matter-of-factly.

 

"Do you have a name?"

 

"I have a list, remember? The difficult part is to choose from that list." Arya looked delighted by the perspective.

 

She stilled for a moment. After dealing with the White Walkers, there were few things that could disturb her, and Arya Stark had just managed to do it.

 

 

 

TYRION

 

"Noho Dimittis has arrived, my Lord," Pod announced while staring at his feet.

 

_Finally._ He wanted to finish the Crown's relationship with the Iron Bank once and for all. He had to start working on the issues strictly related to the Realm. The end of the war was just the beginning of the problems for the Master of Coin.

 

"Bring him, Pod." He stood up to receive his distinguished visitor.

 

"Lord Tyrion Lannister, am I right?" Tyrion found his accent strange, even for a Braavossi.

 

"Judging my peculiar appearance, my Lord, it's hard to mistake me for someone else." Tyrion made a gesture to invite the man to sit.

 

"Certainly, I wouldn't mistake you for your royal sister, my Lord. You hardly look like her," the man paused and stared at him. "I hope you don't think like her either."

 

_That would make me stupid._

 

"Fortunately for the Crown, I don't. I know how to deal with the Iron Bank."

 

"I'm curious. I hope you're not talking about excuses or coughs because I've had enough of those already."

 

_Cersei and Gyles._ It was possible that with enough time, Tommen would have fallen without the intervention of the dragons.

 

"I'm talking about gold."

 

"Gold," the man repeated with a gleam in his eyes. "It's good to hear that. How much?"

 

"All of it," Tyrion said nonchalantly.

 

The Braavosi frowned. "Do you mean the equivalent to the delayed payments of the debt?"

 

"I mean the entire debt," Tyrion had to repress his laughter when he saw the surprise in the other man's expression.

 

"Seriously, my Lord?" The man had recovered his calm demeanor. "The eighteen million golden dragons?"

 

Tyrion nodded, "ten trunks with two million dragons each are on their way to Braavos. Two extra million as atonement for the inconveniences the Crown caused to your legendary organization."

 

_And to make sure you stop financing Stannis Baratheon._

 

"I thought the situation of the Seven Kingdoms was, well, precarious."

 

"It is, my Lord," Tyrion made a painful face. "However, one must be smart, even when the situation is difficult."

 

The Iron Bank had never liked the dragons. The founders of Braavos and the Iron Bank were descendants of the slaves that had escaped from the Valyrian Freehold. The Targaryens represented the last trace of everything they hated. They could still want to obliterate them. Tyrion didn't want to give them a method to reach their objective.

 

"I wonder who was stupid enough to lend money to a lost cause."

 

"Unfortunately for your curiosity, that is unrelated to our negotiations, my Lord."

 

"Such a shame," the man sipped his wine for the first time. "Anyways, it's not that I don't enjoy your company, but I must deliver the message to the Iron Bank. And of course, I must prepare the documents to consign the end of our contract," Noho Dimittis stood up and offered him a hand.

 

"I wouldn't dare to delay you any longer," Tyrion said as he took the man's hand.

 

"We'll be glad to start new contracts with the Iron Throne in the future."

 

_If the gods are merciful, we won't._

 

"That won't be necessary," Tyrion said instead as he watched the foreigner exiting the Small Hall.

 

_Now starts the hardest part for me._ The Realm was in ruins, magical creatures were about to attack, and the Crown was totally indebted. In ten years, his decisions could cost him the head. _At least I got rid of the Iron Bank._ That alone was a reason to be proud.

 

Tyrion asked Pod for parchment and ink; he had to inform Aegon that the Iron Bank wouldn't be a problem anymore. He noticed there was a great fuss inside the Red Keep when he was directing to the rookery, but he paid it no mind.

 

"This one is for the Crown Prince and this one for my brother, Engel." Tyrion handed both letters to the Grand Maester.

 

"Is it an urgent matter, my Lord?"

 

The new Grand Maester was younger than Pycelle and less disgusting. He was skilled and diligent in everything he did, always ready to lend a hand or offer counsel. He had the face of a trustworthy man, and he already stunk to roses.

 

"Not especially. I'm informing him that the Iron Bank has received its due and will give us some peace."

 

"His Grace will be filled with good news when the ravens make it to Harrenhal," the Maester said with a nod.

 

"Really?" He was curious.

 

"Haven't you heard, my Lord? Princess Margaery is with child, leastwise for the last moon. I confirmed it today; everyone is ecstatic."

 

_Magnificent._ That explained the fuss. _Is there a possibility that the baby isn't Aegon's?_ No, there wasn't. Aegon had only been out for a fortnight but had spent nearly two moons with his Golden Rose. Tyrion was furious; with a child, Margaery had secured her position as Queen. He started to wonder whether he and Sansa were playing the same Game. _Good thing we'll meet before she leaves for the Vale._

"That is incredible," he said.

 

Tyrion tried to control his anger as he walked. He needed to think, but first he needed to finish his duties for the day; he directed to the Tower of the Hand.

 

_The world might be about to end._ The Fat Flower was accompanying a smiling Connington.

 

"Welcome, welcome, Lord Tyrion. Have you heard the excellent news?" The Fat Flower received and poured him the wine personally.

 

"I have. It's a shame because my report will be eclipsed now."

 

"More good news, Lord Hand," the Fat Flower clacked; he was clearly drunk already. "I told you their union was blessed."

 

"You certainly did, Lord Tyrell," Connington regarded him. "Which are your good news?"

 

"I have dismissed the Iron Bank, hopefully, forever."

 

"That is excellent to hear."

 

"You should thank Cyara and her uncle," he saw the Fat Flower flinching, "and our Master of Law, of course."

 

"It was my duty to the Realm, Lord Tyrion," The Fat Flower was trying to be modest.

 

_It was your duty to your ambition._

"I must thank you. Seeing the Hand smile, it's quite a spectacle."

 

For once, Connington didn't growl or frown.

 

"I have reasons to smile. Things are finally looking up," he paused; his stare was full of wistfulness. "I’ve been thinking this is how the always meant things to be."

 

_Then the gods are more vicious than Joffrey._

 

"I can imagine at least ten easier ways to put Aegon on the Iron Throne and Jon at Winterfell." Tyrion knew Connington might feel he had at last fulfilled his oath to his late friend.

 

_But the gods don't like the easy way._ The Rebellion, the War of the Five Kings, and thousands of lost lives was the price to reach that conclusion. History had given a dramatic turn, and the two princes had been raised as a bastard and a sellsword. _Beautiful._

 

"Perhaps it wasn't supposed to be easy for them. Otherwise, they wouldn't be worthy of their position."

 

Tyrion was about to tell him that was a stupidity until he remembered Joffrey. There could be some truth in Connington's words.

 

_What's wrong with him?_ It was odd for Connington to be that sentimental.

 

"Perhaps," Tyrion admitted as he prepared to get drunk; the occasion warranted it.

 

* * *

 

 

"Where's your husband? I don't want to cause you trouble."

 

"At a brothel, no doubt," she said serenely.

 

"Are you fine with that?"

 

"We reached an agreement," she sat gracefully on the fresh snow. "He says that he loves me, but one woman is not enough for him. Not in bed." As usual, her face was hidden behind her hood, so he couldn't discern her expression. "I told him that I don't care who he fucks as long as he doesn't take a paramour or procreates another bastard."

 

_Most men would die to reach such an agreement with their wives._

 

"Sounds like you got the worse part." Tyrion suddenly felt sorry for her.

 

"For real? He won't be able to deny me anything, now."

 

_She knows what she's doing._ Harry didn't know how tangled he was in her strings. _Maybe, none of us knows._

 

"You're leaving tomorrow." He set the other issue aside.

 

"I am. So what?"

 

"Your friend is carrying a dragon spawn," he said impatiently. "Didn't you know?"

 

"I know. I was there when the Maester informed her," her tone was unreadable.

 

"Do you understand that now nothing will stop her from being crowned? Particularly if the baby is a boy." Tyrion felt his anger increasing. "Seriously, I thought we would do more than make her feel insecure and jealous of another woman."

 

Sansa released an exasperated breathing and removed her hood. Her Tully blue eyes were staring at him full of determination. "Do you know which the most important lesson Petyr gave me was?"

 

_I'm not in the mood for riddles._ Tyrion scowled.

 

"Don't know. Be wary of cats?"

 

"No. _Patience,_ " she had put especial emphasis on the word. "Petyr waited almost twenty years to take his revenge against my father," there was a hint of longing in her face, but it was just for an instant.

 

"So, what happens in twenty years?" It was an unbearable amount of time for Tyrion.

 

"Are you going to keep cooperating with me?"

 

"Do I have any other option?" There was no turning back for either of them. "I just want to know that I'm risking myself for a satisfactory outcome."

 

Living at King's Landing, he was the one who will have to inform her about the important stuff.

 

"No child of Margaery Tyrell will sit on the Iron Throne,” she stated as sure as the sun rises in the east. “You have my word."

 

"I would never doubt the word of a Stark," he grinned.

 

_And so it starts again._ No matter how dangerous it was, Tyrion would always enjoy playing the Game.

 

 

 

JON

 

"So, basically, you're asking me to obey the heir of the man who beheaded my father."

 

Jon had not seen Harrion Karstark in almost ten years, but he was sure there was little left of the man he had been. That was what war did to people. He didn't look old, but his features had become harder.

 

"You're being disrespectful, Lord Karstark," Maege Mormont pointed. "Jon Stark is the brother of the future King of Westeros and Lord Paramount of the North."

 

"Dragon or wolf, he's still a bastard."

 

"A bastard with a dragon and a wolf. Which kind of death would you fancy, Lord Karstark?"

 

Lady Maege found Cyara's remark hilarious; Jon, not so much. However, it had thrown Harrion Karstark out of balance.

 

"Am I going to be sentenced?"

 

"That depends on your decision." That meeting had taken too long already. "I'm offering you Karhold and resources to start again.  What else do you want?"

 

"My father trusted a Stark, and that Stark beheaded him."

 

"I'm not going to justify my brother, but there's no use for us to carry on with the quarrel. Your sister was wise enough to understand that."

 

"And you married her to a savage."

 

"I gave her an option; she made the decision."

 

Harrion Karstark exhaled, "my men will consider me weak if I kneel to you."

 

"I'm not asking you to kneel. I'm asking you to cooperate with me."

 

"I have no alternative. I'll put my life in your hands, Jon Stark."

 

_We'll see._

 

"It's settled then. Lord Glover, please escort Lord Karstark to his chamber," he walked to the door. "Be sure to have a proper rest, my Lords; we leave first thing in the morning."

 

He opened the door just to stumble with Aegon. His brother had the brighter smile he had ever seen. Jon questioned Duck with his eyes; the knight only shook his head.

 

"I just received a letter from Margaery," Aegon started. "I'm going to be a father. I would have liked to wait, but this is... I don't think I've ever been happier. Can you imagine it? The first Targaryen to be born in twenty years," his eyes had gone wide.

 

Jon had barely understood what he had said for Aegon had rushed every word. He couldn't help his grin when Aegon stopped blabbering.

 

"I'm happy for you, Aegon." It was true, mainly because he knew how insecure his brother had been at the beginning.

 

"Damn," he gasped while running a hand through his hair. "I must write a response to Margaery," and he left as unexpectedly as he had appeared.

 

"Good luck, Duck." Jon knew Aegon wouldn't stay still for a while. The white knight rolled his eyes before chasing Aegon.

 

"A baby dragon. If the gods are generous, they will send a dire wolf too." Lady Maege winked an eye at Cyara.

 

"Yeah right." There was no enthusiasm in Cyara's answer.

 

They returned to their chamber together; it had been like that since the arrival of Ghost. After the wedding, they had dedicated to different activities and limited to share the room during the night. Jon attended the meetings while Cyara made sure the supplies and resources were used wisely and transported correctly. Then, they exchanged opinions before going to sleep. Jon had seen it as an efficient way to have things done. He had not been able to understand the change in the routine at first.

 

Now he suspected it was related to the northerners treatment. Once they married, and despite being aware of the things Cyara could do, they had become overprotective. They watched her incessantly; that couldn't be pleasant. However, after she had become his shadow, the northerners calmed a bit.

 

"Do you have any idea of what Arya has been doing lately?" Jon asked during supper. Arya had never been able to stay still, but he had scarcely seen her the last couple of days and that made him worry.

 

"Looking for Nymeria or exploring the castle," she was distracted.

 

_It must be because of Lady Maege's comment._

 

"Lady Maege didn't intend to make you uncomfortable."

 

That made her lift her gaze. "Well, she did, but that's not your fault. I carelessly overlook I would acquire certain _duties_ after the ceremony."

 

"You don't have to fulfill duties." She shouldn't have been forced into that situation from the start. "I'll explain them everything."

 

"Don't be foolish, Snow. Your vassals wouldn't be able to keep the secret and Syronno would know the truth before we made it to the Wall."

 

_Always rationally thinking._ The Magister had left a couple of men to keep an eye on them. If they discovered their agreement, they would inform the Syronno right away.

 

"I'll tell them to stop bothering you." That was the minimum he could do.

 

"They will forget once they have to focus on the White Walkers."

 

"I promise you won't have to endure this longer than necessary."

 

Jon was grateful to her. Sometimes, Cyara seemed to be the only one who understood the gravity of the situation. However, he couldn't avoid feeling like he had unfairly dragged her into something that was exclusively his obligation; that he had snatched something from her. Cyara's place was at Pentos, not accompanying him to hell.

 

"You worry too much," she said with a faint smile. "Stop overthinking or you won't be able to rest properly."

 

Overthinking or not, he awoke before dawn. Cyara was moving in her sleep, complaining.

 

_A nightmare?_

 

"Hey," he shook her. "Cyara," he shook her harder until she opened her eyes.

 

Cyara sat up immediately, panting and trembling. She covered her face with her hands and breathed a couple of times.

 

"It was just a nightmare," he tried to reassure her.

 

"It wasn't. It was a message from Brynden."

 

_Who's that?_ It was the first time he heard that name.

 

"The raven," she answered his unspoken question. "He wants to speak with you."

 

_Is the Wall under attack?_

 

"How?"

 

She meditated an instant, "the Isle of Faces. We can catch up with the procession later."

 

An hour after that, they were boarding a raft with a pair of crannogmen and Ghost. For his surprise, Arya didn't demand to go with them when he informed her what he was doing. Jon entrusted Galbart Glover with the task of leading the northerners out of Harrenhal.

 

"Are the messages always like that?" He dared to ask as they crossed the lake. He couldn't remember another episode like that.

 

"No, only when he's mad at me," she was speaking softly as if she dreaded to disturb something.

 

"Mad?"

 

"I disobeyed most of his commands since we made it to Storm's End."

 

_Rhaegal; all the time we lost._ She had wanted him to warg into the dragon to avoid the encounter with Daenerys. He had refused.

 

"That time you weren't seasick, it was him." He felt like an idiot. "How does he do it?"

 

"It kind of works like warging. The link is stronger the closer we are."

 

"I thought he was north of the Wall."

 

"Distance doesn't matter when there's a weirwood." He was about to point out that there were no weirwoods at Harrenhal, but she interrupted him. "Don't you think Ghost looks like one?"

 

Yes, he had noted the resemblance the day he pronounced his oath to the Watch. He had not thought it had an especial meaning.

 

"It's not his fault," Cyara petted Ghost's head, "he's a medium, like the trees, right?" The dire wolf licked her face in response.

 

The talk ended at that point for they had reached the shore of the island. There was absolute calm; their mere presence seemed to profane the atmosphere. The moment he set feet on the shore he felt like he was being observed. There was one weirwood for every dozen of common trees; all had red faces carved on them.

 

They walked into the woods while the crannogmen waited at the raft. They reached a place where the weirwoods were the only type of tree; one and all were more ancient than any weirwood he had ever seen. A group of weirwoods with especially frightening faces formed a circle, similar to the one where he recited his vows to the Watch. He could feel the red eyes scrutinizing them when he made it to the center of the circle. The wind blew, stealing a song from the red leaves in the process. Suddenly, the rustle transformed into a murmur, then a whisper and finally into words.

 

_"The Promised Prince."_

 

"Are you the raven?" He was talking to the void, yet felt like the most natural thing in the world.

 

_"Raven, greenseer, three-eyed crow, Brynden, Bloodraven. All of those."_

 

"What do you want from me?"

 

_"Fulfill your destiny."_

 

"How do you know I'm the right person?"

 

_"Born of Ice and Fire."_

_Lyanna and Rhaegar?_

 

"Are the Others attacking already?" That was the question he needed to be answered.

 

_"Not yet. Soon."_

 

"Will they arrive before I do?"

 

_"No."_

He felt an overwhelming relief. They still had time.

 

"Then what do you want?" The way he talked had started to fluster him. "I'm doing what I can to defend the Wall."

 

_"Not enough. Need dragons."_

 

"The dragons are dangerous. I can hardly control one of them."

 

_"Dragons,"_ he repeated. _"Fire."_

 

"It's too dangerous, and we have dragonglass."

 

_"Useless. Burn them all."_

 

_'Burn them all,'_ Aerys Targaryen had said before Jaime Lannister murdered him.

 

"There must be another way."

 

_"Dragons. Fire and Blood. Dragons."_ The leaves started to move more violently.

 

_We will never get out of here if this goes on._

 

"Fine. I'll burn each one of them."

 

_"Dragons. Hurry."_

 

"I’ll call them once I make it to the Wall."

 

_"Fulfill your destiny."_

"I will." A question came to his mind. "Why are you punishing her?"

 

_"My serf,"_ he claimed.

 

"Isn't there someone else?"

 

_"All gone."_

 

_There were others._ Jon wondered how many others the raven had been using.

 

"I'll do it if you stop bothering her."

 

He got no answer this time. The wind blew, and the leaves rustled, yet there were no more words. Just the trace of a melody that repeated _dragons_ , over and over again.

 

The talk had been brief. He felt like he had learned nothing, except that they would make it in time to the Wall. Then again, had everything being real or had he just imagined it? The moment he stepped out of the circle of weirwoods, it started to feel unreal. He kept walking silently considering what he had just experienced. He looked up at the sky and realized it was almost noontime.

 

"How much time did I spend there?"

 

"Three hours, maybe four."

 

"It felt like..."

 

"Minutes? You are not used to the song of the leaves. That's why you took so long to understand the message."

 

"It would have been faster if he had told you."

 

"He thinks I manipulated you to leave the dragons behind and I would try to distort the message."

 

_It was my doing._ Cyara had always been in favor of using the dragons.

 

"Did he call me here exclusively to encourage me to use the dragons?" Jon asked as the raft made its way back to Harrenhal. He had the feeling that there was something he had missed from the unusual conversation.

 

"I think so," Cyara turned to watch the Isle of Faces one last time. "Talking with him is invariably frustrating," she shrugged. "I used to end with more questions than answers whenever I consulted him."

 

"Do yo know what happened with the rest of his..."

 

"Servants?" She paused to think. "There were two men when I first met Brynden. One disappeared a couple of moons after; the second turned into a wight around three years ago. I heard he had more years before; they started to perish when the White Walkers commenced moving south."

 

"How did you survive?"

 

"I rarely followed his orders blindly," she smiled at him with amusement. "I guess that's the reason he holds so much scorn towards me."

 

_That is a poor reason to disturb her._ Jon had not forgotten her frightened expression.

 

"How does he choose?"

 

"He calls whoever is able to understand the song of the leaves. The smart ones ignore him, the idiots follow him."

 

"You..."

 

"I was ten, scared, starving, freezing; I considered him my salvation. I hadn't understood what I had gotten myself into until it was too late," she turned away and that settled their conversation.

 

_Is it right to listen to the raven?_ Jon had not liked it how he had demanded him to burn the enemy; it made him think more of R'hllor than the Old Gods. Plus, he definitely didn't approve his methods to get things done. _All gods must see us as mere puppets._

 

They had made it back to Harrenhal, and he was still pondering over everything. He remembered something.

 

"Is your prophecy truly unrelated to mine?" Something had given him the notion that the raven was behind both.

 

Cyara stopped short as soon as she heard him, then turned swiftly, took his arm and dragged him to the stables. He didn't realize how or when she had managed to corner him against the wooden wall. Jon was trapped between her arms. Despite her intimidating stare, he couldn't ignore how close they were at that moment.

 

"I know what you're thinking and it's not like that."

 

"But..."

 

"Shut up," she silenced him. "Why do you insist in making me remember things that trouble me?"

 

"I want to be sure it wasn't because of me."

 

"Seriously, Snow, how is it that your self-imposed blame hasn't choked you yet?" He didn't answer. "I'm not going to repeat it, so you better pay attention," she stepped back with a heavy sigh. "First of all, the prophecy was made by a Red Priest. The crazy man told my cousin one day I would take everything that belonged to him. That is why he sent me north of the Wall. Meeting Brynden was a coincidence, it was my decision to enter into his service, and I didn't even know of your existence yet. Did you understand?"

 

He nodded.

 

"Good," her expression softened considerably. "What Brynden has done to me and many others; none is slightly your blame. And I'm not going to run back to Pentos because your northerners made a couple of impertinent comments. This war is mine as much as it is yours."

 

He was out of words; some weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Without warning, she gave an especially mean tug to his hair.

 

"Ouch, what was that for?"

 

"Remember that pain whenever you feel like blaming yourself again," she turned around. "Let's return. Your vassals must be imagining something naughty already."

 

"Really? In the stables?"

 

"We're a couple made for scandals, remember?"

 

He shook his head. "I'm starting to think you enjoy it."

 

"You have no id... didn't Maege Mormont left with the procession?"

 

"She did."

 

"What is she doing here?"

 

Lady Mormont had crossed the entrance on horseback with a small guard. She ran to meet them as soon as she spotted them.

 

"What happened?" Jon was getting anxious.

 

"Don't tell me there was an accident with the wildfire," Cyara was pale.

 

"What? No," Lady Maege was still panting. "Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth disappeared."

 

"Did they escape?" It was something stupid; they had nowhere to go.

 

"No. They were abducted by the Brotherhood."

 

"Are they planning to start another war?" If they killed Jaime Lannister, the Westerlands would blame Aegon.

 

 "No, Lord Stark. It's a plan to lure you." Maege Mormont was clearly worried.

 

"What are you talking about?" The situation made less sense every second.

 

"They left a note saying they will kill them unless you go after them."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last POV was my interpretation of the three-eyed raven and its magic. I suppose we'll all know the truth when great GRRM releases the next book. Meanwhile, I'm open to suggestions for what's coming next.
> 
> Next Chapter: "The Flame of Life"


	26. The Flame of Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate that it took me a month to update. I'm still adapting to my new schedule.  
> I haven't stopped writing, but I'm doing it considerably slower than before. May I ask you to stick with me? 
> 
> Anyway, returning to the chapter. Another terrible meeting.  
> Hope you enjoy it.

 

 

AEGON

 

"I don't understand how the outlaws got through the explorers," he tried to excuse himself.

 

"The Brotherhood knows these lands way better than our best explorer." Jon sighed and rubbed his eyes. The horse ride from Harrenhal surely had been extenuating for him.

 

"What do they want?" Cyara asked to no one in particular.

 

"Could be the Crown's pardon. Now that the war has ended, their organization has no purpose." That was the only thing that had come to his mind.

 

"Abducting a member from the cavalcade is not the smartest way to get an absolution, Your Grace." Galbart Glover pointed.

 

"We should hang them like the criminals they are." Randyll Tarly was always ready to impart his justice. "I've been hanging them ever since they started with their transgressions."

 

"Perhaps they need a guarantee to make sure we won't sentence them without a trial, Lord Tarly. I heard they were acting to protect the common folk."

 

Randyll Tarly glowered at Jon but remained silent. It was clear for Aegon they didn't get along, although he ignored the reason.

 

"That doesn't explain why they want you to follow them, Jon. They have two hostages already. "

 

Randyll Tarly glowered again. This time Aegon knew the reason; he didn't approve women taking place in such reunions. He found each one of Cyara's intervention improper, even insulting.

 

"We're running out of time," Jon fell silent for a second. "I will go."

 

The outlaws had given them until sunset to decide whether Jon would go with them or not. Of course, Jon had to go alone to an unknown place, and nothing warranted them that they wouldn't harm him or the other two captives.

 

"No, you won't." Cyara turned to regard him. "Don't you think your brother has done enough for your cause already, Your Grace?"

 

Aegon wasn't sure of how he should answer. He didn't want to risk Jon's life, but the Brotherhood left him with few options. It was difficult to track them, and they knew nothing about their objective. Sending Jon could solve the issue or grant them another hostage; someone more valuable.

 

"You don't decide that, Cyara," Jon spoke before Lord Tarly could. "The crannogmen will track them once I go with him."

 

"You said yourself those men know these lands better than any of us. That sounds like a sure failure."

 

"I'm not going to change my mind."

 

"Do you want to save Jaime Lannister that much?" Cyara cocked her head.

 

The pavillion felt silent. Jon and Cyara looked ready to start a fight; his brother couldn't have taken well her remark.

 

"I'm not doing it for Jaime Lannister. If we don't deal with the Brotherhood now, they will become a more serious problem later. Plus, Jaime Lannister is not their only hostage. Brienne of Tarth has tolerated enough things already."

 

"Do whatever you want. No one can protect you from your own foolishness." Cyara stood and left the tent. Jon sighed before following her.

 

"Excuse me, Your Grace, but I share Lady Stark's opinion. There is something weird about these criminals." Galbart Glover pointed. "They have no valid reason to request Lord Stark's presence."

 

In fact, it would have been more reasonable to ask Aegon to meet them.

 

"I wish there were another way, Lord Glover. Please make the preparations."

 

The northerner nodded but wasn't pleased.

 

Aegon stayed inside the pavillion with a few members of the Golden Company. Aside of recovering Jaime Lannister and his wife, they had to make sure the Brotherhood wouldn't abduct someone else or steal something from their provisions.

 

He left an hour later ready to accompany Jon to the place where he would meet the bandits.

 

"Are you sure about this?" He asked one they have mounted.

 

"Not really, but Arya travelled with them, and they didn't hurt her. I want to think they don't have reasons to hurt me either."

 

"I'm sure they are only looking to reach an agreement," he said, in part, to convince himself. "I'm sorry if I caused you trouble with Cyara."

 

"Don't be. Our relationship has always been like that."

 

"I thought she would come and track the Brotherhood along with the crannogmen."

 

"She would have come, but I asked her to look for Arya instead."

 

Aegon winced when he heard Arya Stark's name. He couldn't be more ashamed with Jon. For the second time, Jon's little sister had gone missing when he was in charge. Arya had left Harrenhal with the rest of the procession and had vanished at some point. They had only realized her absence after Jaime Lannister and his wife were abducted. The Brotherhood had not mentioned her, so they assumed her disappearance had had nothing to do with the outlaws.

 

"I didn't expect your sister to get away from the column."

 

"Arya has always followed her own agenda," a faint smile appeared on Jon's lips. "I'm pretty sure she's looking for her dire wolf, and while I would like her to be more careful, she's not helpless."

 

 _That girl is far from helpless._ Aegon had not forgotten the night they took King's Landing. Arya Stark still made him feel uneasy, but telling that to Jon would only bring them a dispute.

 

They reached the meeting point when the color transition of the sky was at its peak. There was no one there. Or so they assumed.

 

"I thought Lord Stark wouldn't grace us with his presence."

 

Aegon couldn't identify the origin of the voice.

 

"I must confess I'm disappointed, Lem. I thought this time we would be able to hang some lions."

 

"Seems they still have powerful friends. How curious."

 

 _They aren't as friendly as we thought._ The owners of the voices had still not shown themselves, and their tone was far from being amicable. _Jon must not go with them._

 

"Is it necessary to continue with this performance?" Aegon started. "If what you want is a royal pardon we could talk face to face after you return Lord and Lady Lannister."

 

"We are not interested in forgiveness but justice."

 

_And what do they consider justice?_

 

"You said you would return the hostages."

 

"I don't remember such a thing. The deal was Lord Stark could see the lions after following us."

 

_This situation won't end well._

 

"I won't accept your terms. Jon isn't going with you." Aegon made the signal of retreat. "If something happens to Lord and Lady Lannister you'll be judged for it."

 

"Unfortunately for all of you, the only valid terms in these lands are our terms. Lord Stark will come with us."

 

One of the hidden men whistled. Suddenly, they were not alone anymore but outnumbered and surrounded.

 

 _Were they always there or did they arrive without us noticing?_ It was irrelevant. _They were about to be abducted or worse._

 

"Lord Stark can accompany us the easy way or the hard way," said a tall man with a broken nose and the dirtiest cloak he had ever seen.

 

"We would prefer not hurting the future King of Westeros," added a one-eyed outlaw.

 

Aegon was about to draw Blackfyre, but Jon stopped him. "We wouldn't have a chance, Aegon. We're completely outnumbered."

 

"Seems like Lord Stark still has a trace of common sense."

 

Jon rode forward and handed Longclaw to a man with a harp. Another outlaw took the reins of the horse to guide it away from the meeting point. The man with the broken nose stayed with another ten to make sure Aegon, Duck and the three crannogmen wouldn't pursue them.

 

After an indeterminable amount of time the man with the broken nose, spoke again, "Make sure they can't come after us. Be careful with the Prince." He turned his horse and disappeared.

 

"Wait!" It had taken Aegon an instant to understand the implications of the man's words.

 

Aegon turned to see the outlaws had surrounded the crannogmen. He heard Duck's voice telling him to escape; his friend had positioned himself between Aegon and the attackers. The last thing he saw was an outlaw behind him. Then he felt a blow on the head before falling from the horse.

 

He didn't know how much time passed, but daylight had completely disappeared. He stood up with Duck’s help and walked towards his companions. Aegon feared the worst and held his breath until he saw the crannogmen were still moving.

 

"Why didn't you follow them?!" He yelled at Duck. "They took Jon with them."

 

"I wasn't going to leave you unconscious here Aegon."

 

"We have to go after them right now," he started to pace. "They could still be close."

 

 _What do they want with Jon?_ They had wanted to lure him from the beginning. _I'm an idiot._

 

"We will look for them, but we have to return to the campsite first." Duck was holding his arm to keep him in place.

 

"There's no time for that."

 

"We need support and they need treatment."

 

Aegon turned to his companions and realized he had to calm down. They were alive but hurt. A hasty decision wouldn't solve his predicament.

 

"Sorry, Duck. You're right."

 

It took them more time to return to the campsite with the injured. He tried to keep calm for the sake of everyone else, but he couldn't stop thinking about Jon and the bloody outlaws.

 

"Where's Lord Stark?" was the first thing Maege Mormont asked.

 

Aegon just shook his head.

 

"This is bad. I have to tell the Lady."

 

 _Damn, she's going to kill me._ Even before their marriage, Cyara had always been concerned about Jon's safety.

 

"I'll tell her myself, Lady Mormont."

 

Jon had gotten into that situation because of him. As he walked to meet Cyara, he could only pray that his brother would return unharmed.

 

 

 

ARYA

 

Arya had identified the Faceless Assassin a few days after she spoke with Cyara. She knew it wouldn't be easy to deal with him, but she didn't get desperate. She had an eye on the Silver Prince, and Ghost had returned to Jon.

 

 _Nymeria,_ she considered for a moment. Arya had been having wolf dreams in which she was leading the pack to follow the procession across the Riverlands; she was near. Nevertheless, unlike Ghost she had not returned to her. _I suppose it's natural._ The dire wolf might be resentful at Arya.

 

Arya dismissed the thought as she observed the soldier who was supposedly scouting ahead of the column.

 

 _He must be aware of my presence already._ Why else would he separate from the procession and his target? But he had not made a different move or tried to get to her. He might be expecting to be her the one who made the first move. Arya had no doubt that the man knew she was no one.

 

 _I was no one,_ she reminded herself for the tenth time that day. Arya had started to think of herself as no one at some point after they left King's Landing. It could be because the journey they were doing was similar to the one she had begun with Yoren or their stay at Harrenhal. Perhaps it was the fact that she had not completely gotten rid of no one, but she had not paid mind to it until then.

 

She had to interrupt the pondering once more when the man moved again; he continued getting farther away from the procession. Could it be his target was Jon after all? If so, the man was giving a big detour.

 

Jon had left Harrenhal before the procession did. He had said something, about communicating with the raven in the Isle of Faces. The Faceless Assassin had stayed at the castle and separated from the column before midday. Arya had been following him ever since.

 

 _I'm done waiting._ The sunset was well past, and there was no signal that the man would return to the camp. She decided to make the first move. _Fear cuts deeper than swords._ She would be an idiot not to be wary of one of her former fellows.

 

"Valar Morghulis," she greeted.

 

"Valar Dohaeris," the man answered without turning to regard her. "A man had started to think a girl had not realized one was near."

 

 _If that's true, it means I had been hiding well._ She didn't know if he was telling the truth, but it would have been something remarkable if so.

 

"Why are you here?" She went straight to the point.

 

"A girl is impatient." She could only guess his figure and expression for the only source of light came from the full moon hidden behind clouds.

 

"I want you to leave my brother alone," she demanded with all the security she could gather.

 

"A man has not come to deliver the gift to the one they call Ice Dragon."

 

"Did you come for the Silver Prince?"

 

"A man came for a girl."

 

 _Is he going to end me because I didn't accomplish the mission?_ The repercussions of what had happened at Storm's End had not crossed Arya's mind until that moment. A life had been stolen from the Many Faced God; a life should be handed in exchange. Maybe hers.

 

"Were you sent to give me the gift or to take me back?"

 

"A man's mission is unrelated to a girl's failure."

 

He got closer; Arya had to make an effort not to retreat. Now she could see the man's face. She didn't recognize the pale, pasty face, but that didn't surprise her.

 

"Then, why are you here?"

 

"To deliver a warning."

 

"About what?" She raised a brow.

 

"The Citadel is plotting against the dragons."

 

 _What does the Citadel have against Jon and the Silver Prince?_ Not even Daenerys could be held responsible for something.

 

"My brother hasn't done anything to the Citadel."

 

"In the Archimaesters eyes, being a dragon rider is almost as dangerous as the beasts themselves. Beasts and riders, both must die."

 

"Can they even kill a dragon?"

 

"Some say the Archimaesters poisoned the beasts two hundred years ago," he stared at her. "They don't want magic in this world."

 

Arya scowled. According to Maester Luwin, most dragons had died during the Dance of the Dragons. However, if history was written and taught by Maesters from the Citadel, they could have very well hid the truth.

 

"Am I supposed to protect the dragons?" She couldn't think of something more ridiculous than that. "Why would the House of Black and White want to protect the dragons?" For what she knew, all Braavos held a grudge against the Valyrian Freehold and its beasts.

 

"The preservation of the world is more important than a useless struggle."

 

She chuckled. "Are the dragons supposed to preserve the world?" She had always associated them with the power of destruction.

 

The man cocked his head to one side. "A man thought a girl's brother needed the beasts to fight the cold."

 

 _How does he know?_ Everyone thought Jon was exaggerating with the White Walkers. Arya had even heard some northerners whisper _that_ was his share of Targaryen Madness. It was difficult to believe the House of Black and White accepted their existence.

 

"So what? The dragons are at King's Landing and the Maesters at the Citadel."

 

"No for long. A girl must be vigilant."

 

"Fine, I will," Arya conceded before narrowing her eyes. "Are you going North with us?"

 

"No, a man's mission has finished. A man must return."

 

She didn't need to ask where he was returning.

 

"Was your only mission to warn me?" It was a waste of good resources.

 

"One of the many a man must perform." The man turned and gave a step away from her.

 

"What about the Silver Prince? I didn't give him the gift." She wanted to make sure she wouldn't have another encounter of the sort.

 

"A girl stole a life from the Many Faced God. A life must be granted in exchange." He answered without turning to see her. "If a girl has a name to offer..."

 

Arya made an effort to avoid grinning. At least she had been right about being able to change the receiver of the gift.

 

"Illryrio Mopatis," she answered without hesitation. The fat man was beyond her grasp.

 

"It will take a weeks, moons or years. A girl might want to change her choice." The man was facing her again.

 

 _Is he trying to test me?_ This time, she had thought carefully about her answer. She would not repeat the mistake she had committed the last time she was at Harrenhall.

 

"A girl can be very patient. If it happens eventually, a girl has no reason to complain."

 

The man's expression twisted almost in a grin. "Seems a girl has learned the lesson."

 

"Jaqen?" Only after what he said it occurred to her that the man could be _him_.

 

"No one," he stated.

 

 _Of course._ She didn't need the confirmation, though.

 

"Valar Morghulis." There was nothing left to say. It was improbable for Arya to see him again.

 

"Farwell, Arya Stark," the man answered instead of Valar Dohaeris. Then he walked into the woods.

 

 _Am I free from the House of Black and White?_ She wasn't sure. _And was what he said about the Citadel true?_ Arya stared at the darkness before walking in the opposite direction the man had. She would have time to consider everything.

 

She stopped after a couple of minutes for she wasn't sure where she was going. She had escaped the column long before they had set the campsite. They could be considerably far from where she left them the last time. She was not scared of being alone at night, but she didn't want to waste time looking for the column.

 

 _Maybe I should return to Harrenhal._ If she made it before dawn, she could still find Jon there. She stared at the sky and tried to find some guidance in the stars. Given the weather, it was useless.  Great, is going to snow. She had to find some shelter or suffer because of the cold.

 

She didn't find a place to take shelter near, and the snow slowly had started to fall. Arya began to regret being so reckless as to follow the Faceless Assassin without considering the consequences. However, she kept walking; sooner or later she would find something or someone.

 

She almost sighed in relief when she heard a voice. It was barely a whisper, but it she was sure it was a woman's voice. She walked towards the place rather rashly. If she had considered better the situation, she would have remembered there were still a lot of criminals roaming the Riverlands.

 

Fortunately for her, the owner of the voice was Cyara. After getting closer, Arya thought it was odd for Cyara to be speaking since there was no one else with her, except for Ghost. Then, she noticed Cyara was talking to the dire wolf. The older woman had the dire wolf's jaws between her hands and was staring directly into the beast's eyes. It was a hilarious scene; it looked like she was reprimanding him.

 

"Brynden, come on. Tell me where is he." Cyara shook the dire wolf's head, but she got no answer. "I thought you needed him." There wasn't an answer. "Brynden!" Cyara shouted before releasing Ghost with a curse.

 

"You do know his name is Ghost, right?" She knew who Cyara was directing to, but she wanted to tease her.

 

Cyara turned her head swiftly when she heard Arya; her eyes widened. "WHERE IN THE SEVEN HELLS WERE YOU?!" Her unusually loud voice startled Arya.

 

 _Is she angry at me?_ Arya didn't though her disappearance would cause such concern. It wasn't the first time she did something like that.

 

"Hey, I'm sorry," Arya suddenly felt like a scolded child. "I was solving the Faceless Assassin issue," she smiled, "everything is fine now, so don't get mad at me."

 

"Of all the days, why did you have to choose today?" Cyara was pinching the bridge of her nose.

 

"Did something happen?" Arya started to feel a horrible uneasiness.

 

"Nothing much. The Brotherhood without Banners abducted Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth to lure your naïve brother to follow them."

 

"The Brotherhood," she repeated, "they are not that bad. They have no reasons to harm any of us."

 

"Go and tell that to Aegon and the crannogmen they attacked to take Jon," Cyara spat furiously. "No one has been able to track them."

 

Her stomach shrank when she heard that.

 

"Why weren't you with him?" Her tone was more accusatory than it was fair.

 

Cyara gave her a pointed look. "Because he asked me to look for you while he met the outlaws."

 

"You're saying it's my fault."

 

"I'm not blaming you, Arya," Cyara's scowl had softened. "But I don't know which kind of issues the Brotherhood has with Jon," she sighed. "I'm worried and tired."

 

Arya thought hard to remember the time she spent with the Brotherhood; the way they thought and acted. Whatever their issue was with Jon, the explorers wouldn't be able to find them. The Lannisters had spent years hunting them unsuccessfully.

 

"The explorers won't find them," she declared.

 

"You don't need to tell me. Do you think I would have tried to contact Brynden otherwise?"

 

She glanced at Ghost. "Maybe we should ask the help of the rest of the pack." Arya had half a hundred eyes in the Riverlands' forests.

 

"I told you it's dangerous. If you keep warging that much..."

 

"I won't be able to return," she completed. "My brother is worthy of taking that risk." She had not recovered such an important part of her life to lose it due to a bunch of bandits.

 

"Jon wouldn't want you to risk because of him."

 

"He doesn't have to know," she grinned. Cyara knew she could not stop her; Arya saw it in her eyes.

 

"I'll guard you," she conceded. "Please don't take long."

 

Arya nodded and sat against a tree, trying to ignore the unceasing snow. As usual, she was pulled towards Nymeria right away.

 

Her brother's human was in danger; she knew it. Normally, she wouldn't care about humans, but that man had been a member of the pack ever since she could remember. She howled to call her little cousins and ordered them to search. She looked as well, although she didn't know exactly what.

 

I didn't take long before she found it. Near the river, she smelled two rather familiar scents. She stealthily got closer to the place and observed. There were two men she had known a long time ago; they were arguing in their human language.

 

"We must tell the Prince's procession," said the younger man.

 

"I don't think it is a good idea, Ned."

 

"Why not? What they are doing is not right."

 

The older one shook his head. "I agree with you, but we are former members of the Brotherhood. The Silver Prince will hang us as soon as we set feet in his campsite."

 

"We left because we didn't want to follow their methods. Still, we won't be different from them if we allow them to get away with it."

 

She lost interest in observing the men. She got away from the place to look for her little cousins and her silent brother.

 

 _Anguy and Edric Dayne,_ she thought as she returned to her own body. Jon wasn't with them, but they had to know where the rest had taken Jon.

 

She opened her eyes. "I know where we have to go," was all she told to Cyara.

 

They directed to the place on foot, for the horses would drag too much attention and it wasn't far. They never lost the way because the wolves guided them with their howls. They only had to follow Ghost.

 

Ned was keeping guard while Anguy slept when they got to the place. He was running his fingers through his blonde hair; his features had become sharper.

 

"I'll take care of this." She approached as noiselessly as no one would. She whispered once she was right behind him, "Long time no see, Ned."

 

Edric Dayne reached instantly for his sword. Arya pointed _Needle_ to his throat. He stilled.

 

"That won't be necessary. We're former comrades after all."

 

"Comrades?" He asked confused. "What do you want?" He asked, always wary of _Needle_.

 

"I want to know where is my brother."

 

"Why would I know?"

 

Anguy started to move due to their voices. "What is the meaning of this?" He asked as soon as he saw what was happening. He reached for his bow.

 

"I wouldn't do that," Cyara had already retrieved the weapon. "We only came to talk, right, Arya?"

 

Ned and Anguy exchanged a stunned stare when they heard her name.

 

"That depends on their answers." Fear could loosen their tounges.

 

"Are you truly Arya Stark?" Anguy stared at her with distrust and still wary of Cyara.

 

"Have I changed that much?"

 

This time despite _Needle_ , Ned Dayne turned to her. Arya lowered her sword while he observed her with half-shut eyes. He then got to his feet nearly desperately with a smile on his face.

 

"It is her, Anguy."

 

Anguy stood to see her better. "For the Seven!" He gasped. "We searched the Riverlands a thousand times, looking for you. Where were you?"

 

_Far away from the Riverlands._

 

"I didn't come here to chat about the past," she cut him off. "I demand you to free my brother."

 

Arya saw both of them wince.

 

"We are not members of the Brotherhood anymore, my Lady. Things changed a lot since you left," Ned muttered; shame clear in his face.

 

 _Useless,_ Arya thought after determining Ned Dayne was not lying. She felt a new wave of anxiety invading her. _How are we going to find Jon?_

 

"You must have some idea of their objective," said Cyara.

 

"They want _justice_. They are going to judge Lord Stark," Anguy say after a moment of hesitation.

 

Arya remembered the Hound's trial against Lord Beric. She got furious; they were putting Jon at the same level of that shit.

 

_I'll finish that corpse and make sure Thoros won't bring him back._

 

"Has the lightning lord gone mad?" She spat to Edric Dayne.

 

"Lord Beric is not the leader anymore. He... his fire ran out."

 

_What?_

 

"Then guide me to the new leader," she demanded.

 

"We don't..."

 

"They must be at Hollow Hill," Ned interrupted Anguy.

 

"Ned!"Anguy gave the boy a significant look and shook his head. "We left, but we are not traitors."

 

"They have gone too far, Anguy. I'll take you there," Ned assured Arya.

 

"You are going to repent doing it, Ned."

 

Anguy ended going with them despite his complaints. He was intensively staring at Arya.

 

"What?"

 

"Dealing with that new leader will be very hard for you."

 

"He will have it harder dealing with me. I promise."

 

Anguy didn't look that convinced. However, Arya couldn't care less about his opinion.

 

_I'm going to make that stupid leader fear for his life._

 

 

 

JON

 

He didn't know how much time it had taken, but the outlaws had finally reached their den. Of course, Jon didn't have the slightest idea of where they were. For all he knew, they could have returned to the departure point.

 

Almost right after Aegon was out of sight, one of the bandits had tied his hands and put a sack of coarse cloth over his head. Disarmed, he had been in no position to put up a fight. At that moment, more than anxiety, he had felt shame for making things so easy for the outlaws.

 

They hadn't talked to him during the whole journey, limiting to growl orders or pushing him when necessary. Jon still couldn't understand what they wanted from him, but it was quite clear they loathed him. They referred to him as Lord Stark in the same tone Alliser Thorne had used to call him Lord Snow.

 

 _If they don't kill me, Cyara will for being so stupid,_ he considered as one of them urged Jon to dismount. She had tried to stop him, and he had not listened. _The next time she tells me not to do something, I won't discuss._ He wondered whether she would have found Arya already.

 

Jon winced when someone pulled his hands; the friction had left his wrists raw. The place where they were conducting him felt like a winding maze. He soon lost count of the twist and turns. Were they inside a castle or something?

 

When they stopped, someone cut the rope from his hands and removed the sack from his head. After such a long time in the darkness, even the dim light of the candle harmed his eyes. He was still blinking when someone pushed him into a dark opening in the wall.

 

"Your chambers, Lord Stark," someone spat behind him.

 

He heard a door closing behind him. Jon gave one step, stumbled upon something and fell to the floor.

 

"Lord Stark?"

 

 _Brienne of Tarth?_ Jon had stumbled upon her feet. _They're still alive, but for how long?_

 

He leaned against the stone. With the scarce illumination, he identified two figures in the dark.

 

"And I thought the Starks hated the Lannisters." It was Jaime Lannister's voice.

 

 _I am here because I wanted to prevent a disgrace,_ he thought resentfully.

 

"Where are we?" He ignored the previous observation.

 

"I've been here twice; the wench, thrice. But I still don't know where the fuck we are." Jon could almost picture him shrugging.

 

 _Isn't he worried that they might kill us? His wife is in danger, but he doesn't seem to give a damn_. Jon had not been able to decide whether Jaime Lannister cared for his wife. He was impolite towards Brienne of Tarth more often than not. However, whenever someone dared to utter a word against her, he reacted pretty aggressively.

 

"Wait, this isn't your first time here?" Jon asked angrily. They could have warned the procession about the Brotherhood.

 

"Didn't I already say it's not?"

 

Jon sighed. "What do they want?"

 

There was silence.

 

"They want what the Lady wants." There was an unusual tremble in Brienne's voice.

 

 _Is a lady the leader of the Brotherhood?_ Jon couldn't understand what a Lady was doing with a group of criminals.

 

"Whose that Lady?"

 

His companions fell silent again.

 

"If we told you, you wouldn't believe us." This time, even the Kingslayer sounded distressed.

 

The silence returned. It had started to irk him. In their muteness, they shared something of great relevance. If the place had not been so dark, Jon would have sworn that Jaime Lannister was holding Brienne's hand.

 

 _It's nothing._ Jon tried to convince himself despite the horrible sensation in his guts. _They want gold or something of the sort._

 

 _'Don't be foolish, Snow.'_ He heard Cyara telling him it was an absurdly optimistic assumption.

 

It passed an hour, maybe two before one of the outlaws went to look for them.

 

"The Lady is ready to judge you and your whore, Kingslayer." It was a voice he had not heard until then. One full of hatred.

 

Jon heard a sigh, perhaps a sob and felt the others move in the dark hole that served as their cell. He perceived a glimpse of the light that their warden was carrying.

 

Jon tried to stand up. "There must be another way to resolve this situation."

 

He was pushed back. "Your turn will come, bastard."

 

The last word was like a slap to him. Despite his reluctance, deep in his heart, he had been glad not to be treated like a bastard. Besides, the man had pronounced the word with a scorn that was nearly familiar to him.

 

Just like the man had promised, his turn arrived; too soon for his liking.

 

"Stand up, bastard." It was the same man that had taken Jaime Lannister.

 

Jon obeyed and followed him. He wasn't surprised by the fact that the man didn't tie his hands. The place was a genuine labyrinth. He wouldn't have been able to escape.

 

As they walked, Jon observed the man. Jon couldn't discern his exact age, but he was lean, tall, with grey hair and dressed like a knight.

 

He turned to Jon after noticing he was being observed. When their eyes met, Jon shivered; he had felt a mixture of panic and sadness. The man's blue eyes were old and wise, still, they reminded him of Robb's. Jon averted his stare immediately.

 

 _So we are underground._ Uncountable roots emerged and sank in the walls. He was hit by the certainty that Aegon and the others wouldn't find them. Leastwise not in time.

 

The narrow corridor gave place to a spacious cavern with a table at the end and an enormous fire in the centre. There were at least fifty people around the fire; children included. All of them turned to glower at him when he entered.

 

 _What did I do?_ It was the first time he saw any of them.

 

The man with Robb's eyes pushed him closer to the fire in the centre. Near the place where Jaime Lannister and Brienne were kneeling in silence. They had beaten both of them.

 

Jon turned to his warden. "Why are you doing this?!" He demanded to know. "I don't-"

 

Jon was silenced with a backhanded blow. He lost his balance. The man possessed an incredible strength, and Jon was weak from the journey. He could hear the spectators praising the action.

 

"You won't speak without permission, bastard. Stand up," he ordered.

 

Jon decided to obey after a while; he had few options and no idea of what was occurring. Once he was on his feet again he noticed the blood running down his face; the blow had cut his cheek.

 

"That was unnecessary, Brynden," said a tall man with an old pink tunic.

 

 _Brynden?_ The raven came to his mind. No, they can't be related.

 

"Shut up, Thoros. Start with the prayers."

 

The man named Thoros looked at Jon and gave him a sympathetic smile before starting, "Lord of Light, guide our steps through these difficult times. Give us the wisdom to impart justice. Show us the road of Light, for the night is dark and full of terrors." He recited.

 

"The night is dark and full of terrors," the crowd repeated.

 

 _That explains the great fire._ Red Priests enjoyed burning people. _I escaped Melissandre to end here._

Brynden pulled him to the table at the end where a woman was sitting. A large hood covered her face. Her long wrinkled fingers were holding something that looked like a crown.

 

 _Is she the leader of the Brotherhood?_ There were two men positioned to her sides. One of them was around Jon's age; his blue eyes were staring at him with disdain. The second, on the other hand, was avoiding staring at him. Jon couldn't see his face behind the prominent beard.

 

"Are you the leader?" Jon ventured to ask.

 

The woman didn't speak. She limited to give a barely perceptible nod.

 

"She is going to judge you, bastard," Brynden spat.

_What?_

 

"Judge me? For which crimes? I have-" Brynden's punch left him breathless.

 

"I told you not to talk without permission."

 

 _What's wrong with them?_ Jon turned to Jaime Lannister and Brienne to ask for an explanation. They didn't even raise their heads.

 

"You will be judged for treason," said the man around Jon's age. "You betrayed the King."

 

_Betraying the King?_

 

"Aegon is my brother. I would never betray him."

 

"Did you tell the same to the Young Wolf before backstabbing him?" The man with the wooden harp asked as he pulled a cord from the instrument.

 

His guts twisted. The mention of Robb had affected him. "I never moved a finger against Robb."

 

This time, the second guard was staring at him, and Jon recognized him. It was Harwin; the son of Hullen.

 

Harwin shook his head, "Oh, Jon, you should have stayed at the Wall."

 

The woman removed the hood. Jon saw her and stilled. He was shaking like crazy, and the lump that had formed in his chest made it incredibly difficult to breath. He wanted to scream, to throw up, to run, all at the same time, but he wasn't able to move.

 

The auburn hair had turned white; the skin that had been fair now looked like clay with horrible furrows of dry blood. If Jon had been able to identify that thing as Lady Catelyn Tully Stark, was because of the eyes. Deep blue, overflowing contempt towards him.

 

Her mere stare had been enough to make him cower. Right then and there, he was not the Ice Dragon or the Commander of the Night's Watch. He was the boy who feared Lady Stark, who would weep at her scornful treatment. Still, for whatever reason, he was unable to look away from her.

 

Catelyn Stark settled her hands over the shreds of the skin of her neck and opened her mouth. "Bastard." It was more a caw than a word, but he understood it.

 

"I thought you were-" He could not finish. The words felt like fire inside his throat.

 

"Dead? The Lord of Light kissed her to ignite life in her again. R'hllor still has plans for the Lady," explained the Red Priest.

 

 _Kissed by fire._ The expression would never mean the same for him again.

 

"Robb," he managed to utter. "Where is he?" He prayed his brother wouldn't be in a similar state as his mother. Death was better than that life.

 

"The King is well and truly dead," Harwin offered the answer.

 

"All because of the likes of you who sold him to the Lannisters," Brynden completed.

 

 _Where did they even get that idea?_ Jon carried lots of regrets regarding Robb. Somewhere in his mind, he had convinced himself that had he not chosen the Night's Watch over him, his brother would be alive. But saying that he had wished ill to him was demented.

 

"I NEVER DID THAT!" The shock of the first impression had relented. Anger had started to burn inside him.

 

His statement earned him another blow from Brynden. Nevertheless, he didn't retreat. He wasn't going to accept those accusations.

 

"Lannister." Cawed Catelyn Stark.

 

"I have nothing to do with them," He retorted.

 

"Says the man who came to rescue them."

 

 _It was a trap._ Catelyn Stark, or what remained of her, had him right where she wanted. _She might get rid of me after all these years._

"I came to prevent another war." The truth was the only path left to him. "Aside of that, I have nothing to do with them."

 

"Liar." Catelyn Stark had not moved her eyes away from him.

 

"I am not lying."

 

"You owe them everything you have. They made you Lord Commander of the Watch, they got rid of the Stark children for you so that you could take Winterfell."

 

"Treacherous bastard."

 

"Where did you hear that?" The story they had built up was amazing. "The men of the Watch chose me, and I'm only ruling Winterfell because that was what Robb wanted. I will only do it until Rickon comes of age."

 

"Rickon," Lady Catelyn repeated. "Rickon is gone. Lies."

 

"He is alive. As I said, Winterfell will be his." Jon only needed to have control until they had defeated the Others.

 

"Do you expect us to believe your words?" Buffed the man with the broken nose; one of the first men he met. "You look pretty comfortable with your current position."

 

"He has reasons to be satisfied, Lem." Answered the bard. "He is Lord of Winterfell. His lovely wife will bear a little bastard for him. He even ordered the northerners to call his whore Lady Stark."

 

"That is utterly false!" Jon moved forward.

 

Brynden hit him again.

 

"Why should you live my son's life?" It was the longest phrase Lady Catelyn had pronounced until then.

 

 _Are they even listening to me?_ They had already decided he was guilty of all those lies. Jon tried to calm down and think.

 

"You have no authority to judge me or them."

 

"I have," Lady Stark's voice was a terrible thing to hear. "You, together, murdered my sons, sent my daughters away."

 

"Arya is with me, and Sansa chose to go to the Vale."

 

If it had been his decision, he would have taken Sansa back to Winterfell.

 

"Another lie, my Lady. We didn't saw the little Lady when we entered the campsite. Only the gods know what he did with the girl."

 

 _Where are you, little sister?_ If she hadn't disappeared, Jon could have proved he was telling the truth. But it was too late to think about that. Now he feared not to see her again.

 

"Lies," Lady Catelyn seemed to like that word.

 

 _It can be her body, but she isn't Catelyn Stark._ It was as if the only thing that had come back from death was her hatred, nothing else. The only thing that mattered was what she considered true.

 

"Hang them with the Freys," she ordered.

 

"WAIT!" Jon shouted desperately, but no one listened.

 

Brynden subdued him and took him outside the cavern. Others did the same with Jaime Lannister and Brienne. Those who had been watching followed them. They looked pleased by the outcome of the trial.

 

As they walked through the dark passages, Jon told himself he wasn't afraid of death. But if he died, who would protect Arya, Sansa, and Rickon? Who would defend the Wall? What would Brynden do with Cyara? What would Daenerys do with the North? Plus, being sentenced because of something he had not done was unacceptable. That was what infuriated him more than anything.

 

The succession of passages took them to the exit of the den. Catelyn Stark remained at the entrance of the place, observing. Jon raised a hand to protect from the light of dawn; the last he would see.

 

Two men threw two ropes over the lowest branch of a willow. Jaime Lannister and Brienne were pulled forward, their hands tied.

 

"You will hang right beside your friends, bastard," promised Brynden. "But first you'll watch."

 

Jon contained his laughter. Of all the ways he imagined he could die, hanging beside Jaime Lannister had never crossed his mind.

 

"Let go the wench, Lady Stoneheart. She shouldn't be here," said Jaime Lannister when they asked for his last words.

 

_Lady Stoneheart. It suits her._

 

Brienne didn't utter a single word.

 

Lady Stoneheart gave the signal, and the ropes were pulled. Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth elevated from the ground for a second before falling again.

 

The men who were pulling the rope had let it go and retreated at the sight of Ghost.

 

Jon felt his legs failing him. Maybe because of the relief or the tiredness.

 

"Kill that beast," ordered Brynden.

 

The first man that moved got an arrow sticking from his left foot; he released a pained growl. Everyone turned around looking for the origin of the attack.

 

"What the-?! Anguy, what do you think you are doing?!" The one they called Lem shouted to no one in particular.

 

"Prevent you from doing a stupidity," the answer came from the same directing where Ghost had appeared. "You do know he is the brother of the Silver Prince, right?"

 

"Fuck the dragons! They have no idea of where we are."

 

"Ned will tell them, be sure of that."

 

"Damn brat," Brynden cursed.

 

"Fucking traitors! You'll hang along with the lions!" Lem started to shout louder. "Bring me that rat!"

 

"You might regret- Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

 

"I'm tired of your blabbering. Move!"

 

 _Arya!_ His little sister would never stop surprising him.

 

Arya got out and observed the members of the Brotherhood. Cyara and a man trailed after her. As Arya continued walking, the man kneeled to release Jaime Lannister and Brienne. Due to Ghost's presence, no one dared to interfere.

 

"You look more miserable than the last time I saw you." Arya wrinkled her nose at Thoros.

 

"Who the Hell are you?" Brynden demanded to know.

 

Arya turned swiftly to them. "I'm Arya Stark."

 

"What kind of bad joke is this?" Brynden threw Jon to the floor and got closer to examine Arya.

 

"She is the little Lady, Brynden," Harwin informed the old knight.

 

Brynden widened his eyes, remaining speechless, like the rest of the members of the Brotherhood.

 

She glowered. "You might regret hurting my brother.”

 

Jon heard a growl behind him. He had no energy to stand up, but he turned to find a dire wolf.

 

 _Is that Nymeria?_ The dire wolf was ready to pounce over Brynden.

 

"Arya, there's no need to fight." Cyara turned to Brynden. "They are coming with us. If you don't want trouble with the Crown, you won't interfere."

 

"Arya Stark stays," Brynden took Arya's arm.

 

Arya pulled away from him. "Think again," she snapped her fingers.

 

Two dozens of wolves appeared out of nowhere. All the members of the Brotherhood stood still as stone. Brynden moved away astonished.

 

Cyara helped him stand. The movement made him gasp because of the pain. She pulled his arm over her shoulders to help him walk. The touch provided him a sensation of safety.

 

"I should have-"

 

"We'll talk later," she cut him off. "Let's get out of here, Arya."

 

"Not until I give a lesson to their leader. Where is that retarded?"

 

No one answered. They all gave an uneasy stare towards Lady Stoneheart. Arya noticed and moved to the entrance of the cavern, where the monster was.

 

Jon felt panic. With the fuss and the wolves, he had forgotten.

 

"ARYA! DON'T!"

 

Arya ignored him and kept walking, _Needle_ in hand. When she was close enough, she stopped short. She dropped _Needle_. Jon saw her clenching her fists, her whole body stiffening.

 

Lady Stoneheart didn't seem to recognize Arya; her eyes had not moved away from Jon. As if wondering why wasn't he hanging from the willow yet. She had hardly acknowledged Arya's presence.

 

"You gave her the kiss, Thoros?" Arya's voice had started to shake along with her body.

 

"Lord Beric did."

 

Arya released a scream of pain and frustration. Then she made a sound that was half weeping, half laughter. She muttered something Jon couldn't hear.

 

Arya got closer to Thoros. "I want the Freys. I want them dead," she declared.

 

"We have been hunting them ever since the Red Wedding."

 

"I want them all. I'm going to kill them with my own hands." There was a coldness in her voice that make Jon shiver. "Finish it. I don't want her to stay like that."

 

"I can't. The Lord of Light-"

 

"I don't care about your Red God! Finish it!" She demanded.

 

It was finished. Not by Arya or a member of the Brotherhood. Nymeria had moved immediately with Arya's shout. The dire wolf extinguished whatever kept Catelyn Stark in their world.

 

The scene had horrified most of the attendants. Some were screaming, others had frozen or throwing up. Brynden was shaking his head in disbelief while Harwin had started to sob. Arya didn't seem able to look away from what had been her mother.

 

Jon got closer Arya ignoring the pain moving produced him. The snow around the body had been tainted with a dark viscous fluid, so similar to the thing that had emanated from Gregor Clegane's body.

 

Jon made Arya turn to him and hugged her with his remaining strength. "It's over, little sister. Everything will be fine now."

 

Arya pushed him away. "It is not," she declared staring directly at him. "It won't be until I have annihilated the Freys."

 

Jon had not seen Arya that angry or hurt since Petyr Baelish told them about Sansa. No, this time was worse. Lady Stoneheart was gone, but her bitterness, her desire for revenge had stayed with Arya, like a curse.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if it was what you had in mind. It is just the way I thought things would develop.  
> I know I kept the lack of interaction between Jon and Cyara. I couldn't find an accurate moment to include that. I swear I'll do something about it.
> 
> Next Chapter: "The Law of Hospitality"


	27. The Law of Hospitality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theses are evil. That is all I can offer as an apology for taking so much to update.  
> I reread the last chapter and I accept I overdid it with Brynden (no excuses). That was definitely not the way I wanted things to turn out. I changed that in this one, thus, it is possible that the change seems drastic. I justified it the best I could since he is going to play an important part in the future.  
> Last but not least, I just realized that the story had reached the 200 kudos. Thanks to those who recently found this story, and those who have been following it since the beginning. I hope you continue reading despite the extremely slow updates.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

JON

 

Jon wasn't paying attention as Haldon examined his bruises. He had not been able to rid of the image of Lady Stoneheart. The awful body and the terrifying voice arose in his mind whenever he closed his eyes. He wondered if he would ever be able to forget the vision of the undead Lady Stark; if he would be able to get away from her curse.

 

 _Will Arya be able to get away from it?_ Seeing Catelyn like that had horrified Jon. For him, she had been scary ever since he could remember. But his little sister had embraced a different relationship with that woman.

 

And Arya's affliction wasn't his only predicament. Her thirst for revenge against the Freys made him worry. She wanted them to suffer, to kill them with her hands. Jon could not allow that.

 

He had cursed Walder Frey and his bloody family after the Red Wedding. He had cursed Joffrey, Cersei, and Tywin Lannister, and wished the worst to befall upon them. But even as he had wanted to destroy them personally, he had not craved for it with the frenzy he had perceived in Arya's eyes.

 

Jon had tried to imagine how it would be to have a similar encounter with Lyanna Stark. It was sad and futile because he had not known her.  There was no way for him to understand how Arya was feeling, much less support her. He had never felt more inept.

 

He gasped when Haldon touched his left side.

 

"Sorry, I finished."

 

Haldon handed him a cup and prompted him to drink the contents. He would have refused the milk of the poppy if he had had the strength to do it.

 

"Is he going to be all right, Haldon?" Aegon asked immediately.

 

"He has nothing serious, but he needs to rest."

 

Aegon nodded. "We'll camp here. I'll give the order."

 

"If His Grace wants to stay here, he is free to do it." The flame of the torch flickered when Lord Glover entered the cavern.

 

"Lord Stark and the little Lady won't stay here any longer." Lady Maege trailed behind Galbart.

 

"My Lords, didn't you hear the Maester? My brother needs to rest."

 

Jon was speechlessly staring at them as they started to discuss. He continued hearing the conversation as if it was happening in a distant place. Perhaps it was due to the milk of the poppy.

 

"In that matter we agree, Your Grace. However, we don't consider this to be the right place for Lord Stark to recover."

 

"It would be an imprudence to move Jon in his condition, my Lords."

 

"There could still be outlaws hidden here, Your Grace." The northerner's tone seemed to get more strained every second.

 

"We have secured the place."

 

"We don't know this place," Maege Mormont retorted. "And we have taken enough risks already."

 

Jon saw Aegon wince at the remark.

 

"He won't be able to ride," Haldon tried to support Aegon.

 

"We have made the appropriate arrangements. Excuse us, Your Grace."

 

Aegon was about to stop Galbart from reaching Jon when he finally managed to speak, "I don't want to stay here Aegon."

 

Jon could feel the presence of Lady Stoneheart impregnated in the whole place.

 

Aegon couldn't complain.

 

"Where is Arya?" He had not seen her ever since Aegon arrived at theHollow Hill.

 

"She is with Lady Stark."

 

 _Lady Stark,_ he pictured the corpse and felt his legs failing him. Lord Glover prevented him from falling.

 

"Is she still with the body?"

 

"She is with your wife," provided Lady Maege.

 

He usually forgot Cyara was Lady Stark for the northerners. 

 

"What happened with the Brotherhood?"

 

"The Prince said he would judge those. Although he didn't specify when or where." Galbart replied with evident dissatisfaction. "We wanted to take the situation in our hands, but he wouldn't allow it."

 

"Did you argue with Aegon because of that?" It was not the place or the time to do so.

 

"No, but the Lady did."

 

That wasn't good to hear.  The North already had enough animosities with the Crown. And for what he knew, Aegon was far from being Cyara's favourite person.  He would have to discuss that with her later.

 

When Galbart helped him get into the carriage, Arya wasn't there. A shameful part of him was relieved. He dreaded being beside her at that moment.

 

 As they made their way towards Darry's Castle, his mind kept drifting back to that last encounter he and Arya had had with Lady Catelyn. Those thoughts had engrossed him so much that he was surprised to realize it was already nightfall when the procession made it to the castle.

 

Some northerner guards took him to his chamber, and Haldon visited him again to give him more milk of the poppy and prompt him to rest. Once in bed, he lingered staring at the ceiling. He knew he had to see Arya, but since he lacked the courage, he used his exhaustion as an excuse.

 

A while later, Cyara noiselessly entered the room and walked directly to the table without even regarding him. She sat and started to look over the records where she kept the control of the supplies.

 

Jon had been expecting a reprimand about his carelessness or a complain about how problematic was Aegon. He found himself kind of disappointed when none of those occurred.

 

"Do you need something?" She asked without turning.

 

"Why would you ask?"

 

"You are staring at me as if you wanted to say something." He perceived annoyance in her tone.

 

"I was wondering why you didn't scold me when you entered."

 

She stiffened and stopped writing, "Scold you? Are you a child?" She continued her task. "I got nothing to say."

 

_Yes, she is angry._

 

"I thought you would have something to comment regarding the Brotherhood."

 

She tossed the quill and turned to face him. "Comment?!As if we were discussing the weather?!" Anger had darkened her eyes. "Don't trivialize what happened there!"

 

"Nothing happened." he said, in part, to convince himself as well.

 

"They were going to hang you!" She knocked down the chair when she stood up to get closer to the bed. Jon sat up. "If we had not arrived in time, what would have happened with Arya or the Wall or... me?" Her gaze displayed restlessness.

 

Jon was not sure if he had got the last word correctly, but it carried the reason she was angry at him. If he had died at the Hollow Hill, the raven would have taken reprisal against her. He would undoubtedly do it with more than nightmares. He felt terrible for not thinking about that.

 

"You are right. I was careless," he offered in a conciliatory tone. "I didn't consider my death could bring you trouble with the raven."

 

Cyara widened her eyes before averting them from him. Jon noticed immediately that his statement had offended her. He couldn't comprehend the reason.

 

She surprised him when she sat beside him on the bed, with her back to him.

 

"I told you it was not like that anymore," she pressed her temples. "I was honestly worried about you. We all were."

 

That was not an episode he particularly wanted to remember. Cyara couldn't be fond of it either.

 

"I didn't mean it that way." He placed a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened a bit but didn't move away. "He shouldn't treat you badly because of me."

 

"If it troubles you that much, stop being thoughtless."

 

"I wanted to help Aegon."

 

"Aegon," she said releasing a disgusted sigh. "I wouldn't hurt you to be more selfish."

 

"I heard you argued with him."

 

"Did he tell you about it?" Cyara had an uncomfortable expression when she shifted to regard him.

 

_It was worse than I thought._

 

"Galbart Glover did."

 

"I," she made a pause and ran a hand through her nape, "I struck him after he told me the Brotherhood had taken you."

 

Jon went out of words during an instant, but he ended up snorting. "Do you realize you punched the Crown Prince?"

 

Jon doubted Aegon would act against her, yet it was not something that should happen again.

 

"Being the Crown Prince doesn't make him less idiot," she paused a brief moment. "The same way being the Promised Prince doesn't make you less foolish."

 

He couldn't say anything to refute her statement.

 

Cyara returned to her parchments, although considerably more relaxed than when she entered.

 

Despite the distraction their little argument had provided him, his apprehensions kept hitting in the shape of nightmares. 

 

He was again inside the Hollow Hill, and Lady Stoneheart was judging him with her dead eyes. The fire at the center of the cavern deepened the horrible features of the woman.

 

"Lannister," she accused him.

 

"Lannister," The spectators seconded her statement. All of them were scrutinizing him with the same Tully blue eyes.

 

Robb was among them; with Grey Wind by his side.

 

"Why, Jon?" He asked with a voice that didn't sound like Robb's.

 

"Robb..." Whatever he was trying to say, it refused to leave his mouth.

 

"Traitor." The voice still sounded strange. Jon was horrified to realize the reason.

 

Robb had Grey Wind's head over his shoulders. It was the dire wolf's jaws that produced the noises wich sounded more like howls than words.

 

"No," Jon said desperately. "I had made an oath."

 

"Jon," the fire called his name.

 

He felt as if he was going crazy.

 

"Hang him," Lady Stoneheart ordered and the witnesses dragged him out of the cavern.

 

"Jon," the fire called again as they got further into the darkness.

 

A dim light had replaced the big fire of the cavern. The dragging hands had left him, laying on his back. He was awake.

 

"Jon?" It had been Cyara and not the fire that had been calling his name.

 

"I didn't want to wake you," he cleared his throat. "I was dreaming."

 

She placed a cold hand on his forehead. "You don't have a fever."

 

"It must be the milk of the poppy."

 

"I told Haldon not to give you that thing."

 

The light was enough to discern she had sat up and was staring at him and perceive her expression. She was frowning.

 

"I'll be fine."

 

He wasn't.

 

Every time he fell asleep, he dreamt of his trial at the Hollow Hill. The nightmare's details dissented, but he ended up waking up, startled and panting.

 

The fifth time was the worst of all. In that one, when Lady Stoneheart removed her hood, it wasn't Catelyn Stark's face he found. It was Arya's. She had the same horrible wounds in the neck and face. Her gray eyes were the ones staring at him accusingly. It was her who ordered to hang him for treason.

 

Cyara sat up again and remained silent. As if she was waiting for him to say something, like the three previous occasions.

 

He breathed to calm down. "You should move to another chamber. As things are, I won't let you sleep."

 

As much as he wanted to avoid sleep, he was exhausted, and the milk of the poppy wasn't helping to keep him conscious.

 

"That would be... inconsiderate."

 

"I thought you were in favor of selfishness," he said remembering their earlier talk.

 

She fell silent, pondering his remark. "I know about nightmares."

 

 _You do,_ he thought of her frightened face at Harrenhal.

 

"What do you dream about?" The question escaped his mouth without further consideration.

 

She fell silent again but spoke before he could retract from his impertinence. "The day Ezio left me beyond the Wall," she started slowly. "The ship and the blood tainting the snow."

 

"Blood?"

 

"He killed the members of the crew who tried to stop him," she shifted a little. "When the corpses started to chase me I thought it was my punishment for causing their deaths." A mocking smile crept into her mouth as she added, "I didn't know about wights back then."

 

"Do you still feel responsible for their deaths?"

 

"Sometimes," she acknowledged, "then I remind myself it was beyond my power to do something about it."

 

As Jon reflected if his guilt would subside one day, sleep started to invade him again. He tried to fight it and failed. She realized.

 

"I'll wake you as many times as necessary." Her tone was reassuring.

 

The next time he opened his eyes, he did it peacefully. A ray of sunlight was streaming through the curtains already. He turned away to avoid the light and found Cyara on the edge of the bed, brushing her hair.

 

There was nothing exceptional about the action, yet he couldn't stare away. The long tresses reminded him of dragonglass; black and glistening. He felt the fleeting urge to run his fingers through the dark mane but dismissed the thought when he considered Cyara's possible reaction.

 

Cyara was about to finish her braid when she stopped short. "It irks me when you stay staring," she stated as she tied the end of the braid. "If you feel unwell or something, just spit it out."

 

"It is nothing." He wasn't sure what it had been either. "Actually, I'm feeling better."

 

She made an expression that indicated she didn't believe him. "If you are feeling better," her face grew serious, "you should talk to Arya."

 

"Did something happen to her?" A frightful idea crossed his mind. "Did she attacked someone?" Arya was more dangerous than he liked to admit.

 

"No, but she has been secluded in her room since we arrived. She doesn't allow anyone in, except for her dire wolf. And..."

 

Cyara averted her eyes.

 

"What?!" Jon felt his heartbeat increasing.

 

"I think she is plotting something."

 

"Something like what?" He asked although he had a precise idea of the answer.

 

Cyara sat beside him and breathed deeply. "I'm not sure, but I know she craves for her revenge."

 

That was something he knew already.

 

"Did she tell you about it?"

 

"She has a list of people she wants to end, and as far as I know, she is close to finishing it."

 

Jon felt an unutterable sensation. He disliked the idea of Arya looking for revenge. But the most painful of all was that she had not told him a word about how she had been feeling.

 

 _Maybe Arya doesn't trust me anymore._ The thought was unbearable.

 

"Why would she tell you and not me?" Things were getting worse and worse.

 

Cyara shrugged. "I think you should ask her directly."

 

"And why wouldn't you tell me until now?!" He demanded violently.

 

"She asked me to keep the secret," Cyara had maintained her calm tone despite his harsh attitude. "I think she is afraid of your reaction."

 

 _I was a fool to think we could be like we were before._ He didn't know how to fix their current condition.

 

Jon buried the face in his hands.There was a mess inside his head. The North, the Wall, the issues with Daenerys, the Brotherhood; all his obligations were trifling behind Arya's plight.

 

"What am supposed to solve first?" He exteriorised his distress.

 

"Don't be foolish Snow. Your priority must be Arya." Cyara had a weak smile when he lifted his head. "Surely your northerners can survive a couple of days without you."

 

"It might take me more than a couple of days." He didn't know how affected Arya exactly was.

 

"Well, I guess I'll have to perform the role of the Lady of Winterfell. Just focus on your sister."

 

"Thanks," he muttered. He knew how much she despised to assume that position.

 

Not for the first time since they left King's Landing, Jon had been wondering if Arianne Martell would have been as indulgent as Cyara. If she would have complained about his insecurities and contradictions.  Even as a part of him whispered that the Princess would have understood, another part was glad it wasn't her who witnessed his vulnerability.

 

He went to look for Arya after midday. Despite everything, he still dreaded their necessary meeting.

 

Jon crossed paths with some northerners who expressed how relieved they were to see him better. He barely paid attention to them. His recovery was just external; he felt utterly crushed inside.

 

He breathed before knocking Arya's door.

 

"Go away," a monotonous voice, which didn't sound like Arya, answered him.

 

"It's me, little sister."

 

There was an unbearable silence.

 

"I don't want to see anyone, Jon."

 

"We need to talk Arya," Jon said trying to ignore the turbation her answer had produced on him.

 

"I don't want to talk. Not now."

 

"Arya," he called her again.

 

"Later, please," was the last thing she said.

 

Jon felt the world sinking. Arya had never driven him away. It had never mattered how angry or sad she was. In fact, she would be the one to look for him when she was feeling down or upset.

 

 _She needs time._ Jon tried to convince himself that his reaction had been melodramatic. _We will talk when she's ready._

 

Jon spent the rest of the week avoiding Aegon and the northerners and delegating his responsibilities to Cyara. He tried to reach Arya innumerable occasions during that time, but he always got the same result.

 

He was at the table, pondering about the meaning of Arya's unwillingness to see him when Aegon entered his chamber with an almost angry expression.

 

"I know you are having a tough time, Jon, but isolating yourself won't help you."

 

"It has always been this way." Growing as the bastard of Winterfell he had had to learn how to deal with his issues alone.

 

"I'm worried about you, Jon."

 

Jon was going to ask Aegon to leave him until he saw his expression. He realized he was behaving with Aegon the same way Arya was with him.

 

_I should have guessed how he was feeling._

"I can't think of anything aside from Arya," he confessed.

 

"I understand your worry for your sister. However, this time, you should think of yourself first," Aegon shared with a solemn expression.

 

"I'm better."

 

"You might have misled the northerners, but not me," Aegon smiled wryly at him. "How are you planning to help your sister if you haven't overcome what happened yet?"

 

"It's not that I can't help her because I'm still shocked by the incident. She won't let me," he paused, unsure whether to say the next. "I knew there was something wrong with Arya, but I thought everything would resolve if I took her back to Winterfell." He hated himself for being so oblivious.

 

"If anything, what happened is my fault."Aegon was visibly concerned. "I shouldn't have asked you to meet the Brotherhood."

 

"I don't think that would have made a difference."

 

Jon was convinced. Lady Stoneheart would have found them later. That encounter was meant to happen.

 

"You are kind with me, brother. You should be venting your frustration at me."

 

"I could be accused of insurrection if I did as you say."

 

Aegon frowned. "That isn't funny, Jon."

 

 _I wasn't trying to be funny._ He was seriously considering Daenerys' reaction.

 

"Never mind," he sighed. "What will happen with the Brotherhood?" He had to occupy in other things or he would go crazy.

 

"Most of them are members of the common folk that needed protection. They will travel with us until I find an adequate place for them to reestablish."

 

"What about the actual members?"

 

"I have heard them." Aegon leaned back on the chair. "They told me how the Brotherhood started and how they become what we last witnessed."

 

"And?" Jon could intuit doubt in Aegon's voice.

 

"I'm not ready to decide."

 

"Why not?"

 

"My decision would be biased at the moment. After all, they acted against my little brother." Aegon raised his gaze to stare at him. "I have the impression most of them are not bad."

 

"I think you have already decided not to sentence them, Aegon."

 

"Do you disapprove?"

 

Jon shook his head. "I have nothing against them."

 

"You are a unique person," Aegon said with a smile.

 

_A fool according to Cyara, but someone has to finish this awful cycle of resentment._

 

"I don't know whether that is something good."

 

"I would say is admirable." Aegon paused, his appearance became serious again. "I am uncertain about the Brotherhood, but the Freys are a different matter. I swear I'll give them the sentence they deserve after we make it to the Twins."

 

"The Twins?" He repeated like an idiot. "The Westerlands will become a trouble if you take more time to get there."

 

They were supposed to split at Riverrrun.

 

"I won't put political affairs over the right impartation of justice. Not again."

 

"Daenerys..."

 

"She isn't here," Aegon looked a bit uncomfortable. "If she has a complaint I'll deal with her."

 

Daenerys' performance during the feast had influenced her relationship with Aegon for bad. Jon's brother had stopped excusing her decisions. Furthermore, it seemed like he didn't trust her judgment anymore.

 

"I don't want the North and the Riverlands to interfere with the development of the matters of the Crown."

 

"The Westerlands might represent a significant issue for the Crown, but the Freys profaned sacred laws more ancient than the Realm itself."

 

 _And we have the Kingslayer with us._ If the Westerlands moved a finger, they would lose another Lannister.

 

"When are we leaving?"

 

"I was waiting for you to be ready."

 

"Then there's no need to wait any longer." He had waited enough to find justice for Robb, Lady Catelyn, and the North. It could even be beneficial for Arya.

 

Aegon assented. "There is one more thing," he commented hesitantly. "Brynden Tully wants to talk with you."

 

"Why?"

 

"He didn't tell me." Aegon scrutinized his face for a second. "Of course you wouldn't meet him alone."

 

 _The only thing I fear from Brynden Tully is his eyes._ It was too much like being observed by Robb.

 

"I'll see him." Perhaps he could make the things clear with the man.

 

It took all his persuasiveness to convince Aegon that he could meet Brynden Tully alone. The Black Fish was the only member of the Brotherhood who counted with the northerners' consideration. He had been Robb's right hand when he was fighting the Lannisters.

 

Brynden Tully fixed his blue eyes on him when he crossed the door. The man's gaze was considerably quieter than it had been during their first encounter; there was no scorn. It didn't feel like Robb's stare either.

 

"You look more like a Stark than the King did," the man commented after Jon sat across from him. "No wonder Cat couldn't stand your presence."

 

_What an awful way to start a conversation._

 

"It was never my intention to perturb Lady Catelyn with my presence," Jon answered tentatively.

 

_There was no real reason for her to be perturbed by my presence._

"I am glad to see you have recovered."

 

_Is he making fun of me?_

 

"Aegon told me you had something to discuss with me, Ser." He was regretting his decision to meet the man. He didn’t know what he wanted.

 

"I heard you submitted the North and the Riverlands to the control of King’s Landing again."

 

"I did."

 

"I'd like to know the reason."

 

"Aegon is my brother, and I don't plan to take anything from him. The same way I never wanted to take anything from Robb."

 

"The King named you his heir to preserve his Kingdom if he died."

 

_I thought I was a traitor._

 

"I don't get you, Ser." Jon couldn't discern the knight's purpose. "Back at the Hollow Hill you wanted to sentence me for treason. Now you ask me why I didn't take Robb's place as King?"

 

That made the older man grimace.

 

"I like to think of myself as a level-headed man." The Black Fish sighed. "Nevertheless, there are things able to perturb the most enduring man."

 

_Lady Stoneheart._

 

"I understand.” He had been terrified as well.

 

"The truth is after Jaime Lannister took Riverrrun I had plans to meet you at the Wall." The knight continued.

 

"Me?"

 

"You are the King's heir," Brynden reminded him.

 

Just then, Jon remembered Brynden Tully's signature was in the letter Lady Mormont carried.

 

"So you travelledNorth?"

 

"I was about to cross the Neck when I heard the Black Brothers had stabbed their Commander to death. I found the Brotherhood shortly after and met Cat." He closed his eyes and breathed before reopening them.

 

"I must have been difficult to see your niece in that state."

 

There was a long silence.

 

"What she became,” he hesitated, “she was poison, for me, for the Brotherhood. The hatred she carried was corrosive for us as much as it was for her." He fell silent a long time. "When you came to save the Kingslayer I lost the last trace of my control. I couldn't see beyond my anger."

 

Jon guessed that was the closest to an apology he would get from the Black Fish.

 

"I didn't do it for Jaime Lannister."

 

Brynden Tully nodded. "I failed the King, not just with you. I couldn't protect his Queen."

 

Jon winced at the mention of Robb's widow. Tyrion had told him the Westerlings had betrayed Robb to Tywin Lannister.

 

"What happened to Jeyne Westerling?"

 

"She returned to the Crag and married some western lordling," he said with a light shrug.

 

"She never loved Robb," Jon whispered.

 

The thought pained him because his brother had given up everything for her.

 

"Queen Jeyne was nothing like her cunning family."

 

_I hope so._

 

"She was married to Robb; her place is at Winterfell.” He could at least do that for Robb. “You could escort her there and stay with her. Rickon will need good counsel to rule over Winterfell when the battle at the Wall ends.”

 

 _Someone who can tell him about his mother._ Rickon had been barely more than a baby when Lady Catelyn left Winterfell.

 

"The North and the Riverlands will become part of the Realm again. There's no reason for me to take part in the northern affairs." He looked Jon earnestly. "Besides, my nephew will need support as well.Edmure is sometimes as immature as a child."

 

The old knight looked tired to even think about it.

 

_Does that mean he is trusting Rickon to me?_

 

"I’ll counsel Rickon and take care of Arya and Sansa the best I can. I promise, Ser."

 

"The King trusted you as well as the future King. I'll leave the Young Wolf's legacy in your hands."

 

That settled their conversation. It would have been easier if they had talked like that form the start.             

 

Brynden Tully might never esteem him, but he had apparently cleared the inadequate image he had of Jon.

 

"You will never learn, will you?" Cyara had been waiting him in the hallway. She looked ready to smack him in the head.

 

"We just talked. It was necessary before we leave for the Twins."

 

"What about Arya?"

 

"I haven't been able to make progress here. I thought the journey could help her."

 

It took them a couple of days to make the preparations to leave Darry's Castle. Most of the members of the Brotherhood would travel with them to witness the trial at the Twins.

 

Arya still refused to talk about her mother, but she had accepted to ride by his side.

 

"Will you have supper with us, little sister?" He asked when the procession stopped a week away from the Twins. He wanted to give her space.

 

"I'm tired. I need to sleep," she answered absentmindedly.

 

"Rest, little sister." He mussed her hair.

 

"Maybe breakfast."

 

"I'll be waiting."

 

Jon wasn't able to wait. He went to look for Arya on the morrow, but her tent was empty. He didn't think anything of it. After reuniting with Nymeria, she had taken to separate from the column with the dire wolf. She always returned two or three hours later.

 

It was midday when he decided Arya had taken too long. Jon returned to the tent and decided she was not going to return as soon as he saw she had left _Needle_ behind. The next events were like a dream for him.

 

"The crannogmen are ready to leave," Cyara informed him out of breath. "The Black Fish is organizing a second group of explorers. We will search every possible direction."

 

"There is no need to look everywhere," he muttered without staring away from the thin sword.

 

Jon knew exactly where Arya was going.

 

 

 

DAENERYS

 

Margaery Tyrell was late for breakfast. Daenerys didn't consider it a lack of respect due to her condition. Her morning sickness had worsened since she entered the third moon of pregnancy.

 

The Queen liked to eat only with Missandei, but at Westeros she had to satisfy certain expectations. One of them was keeping a good relationship with the Princess of Dragonstone.

 

"Princess Margaery," Ser Barristan announced.

 

The Queen nodded, and Margaery entered her solar with her brother right behind her. She looked beautiful in her blue gown. If she had been puking instants before, she was able to hide it incredibly well. Her smile was dazzling.

 

_With Aegon and Margaery as parents, that child will have a bewitching smile._

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, Your Grace."

 

"Don't apologize. Pregnancy can be a challenge."

 

"I didn't know you had had a child, Your Grace," Margaery commented as she gracefully sat at the table.

 

 _He would be three now._ Since Margaery's pregnancy was announced she had started to think of her lost boy more and more. _A maegi stole him from me._

"Rhaego was born without breath." It wasn't convenient to share the sordid details with Margaery. It would make the perspective of the birthing bed scary for her.

 

"I'm sorry to hear that, Your Grace."

 

"It happened a long time ago." Still not enough to heal her heart. "Please call me Dany."

 

Margaery nodded. "It surely was difficult to carry a child across the Dothraki Sea."

 

"Carrying Rhaego wasn't especially troublesome. Adjusting to the Dothraki ways was harder." Dany smiled at an unexpected memory. "I had to eat a raw stallion's heart to ensure Rhaego would be a boy."

 

Margaery had gone pale; she looked ready to throw up what little she had managed to eat until then.

 

"That is a weird custom," she said respectfully.

 

"It is a relief to know those customs are not performed in Westeros. Isn't it?"

 

Margaery was a golden rose with steel thorns, but Dany doubted she would have been able to eat the heart.

 

"Did you never want to have another child?" The question appeared innocent. Still, it was painful.

 

 _When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the seas go dry, and mountains blow in the wind like leaves,_ she repeated in her mind.

 

"I won't be able to deliver a living child again," she said after an instant of hesitation. "Your sons won't have to compete with other children for the Iron Throne," Dany assured her.

 

 _'After the two dragons disappeared a wolf sat on the Iron Throne._ ' Moqorro had said at Storm's End.

 

 _No. I eliminated that possibility._ Jon had left for the Winterfell. Even if he wanted to try something, he would have to rebuild the North first. That would take him years.

 

"That wasn't the meaning of my question," Margaery was completely flushed. "I thought that maybe you considered motherhood wasn't suitable for you since you are a conqueror and all."

 

"If it were my decision..." she didn't like to ponder over that. "The gods decided to take that privilege from me. Nothing will change that."

 

"I'm sorry." Margaery had started to sob. "It is a bitter perspective."

 

 _Is she faking compassion?_ Margaery was used to say what people wanted to hear. The only time she had shared her mind with Dany was before the announcement of the betrothals. _I will believe her just this time._

 

"It is not. Drogon Viserion and Rhaegal are my children."

 

 _'Only the black dragon belongs to you, Dany.'_ Viserys' voice cruelly reminded her.

 

The Queen didn't need the memory of Viserys to remind her that. There was no use to ignore it. Rhaegal and Viserion weren't under her control anymore.

 

 _Perhaps they never were._ Since that day, she had started to think the two dragons had been born to follow Aegon and Jon.  Daenerys thought it utterly unfair.

 

She had been the one who paid the price to wake the dragons from stone. An outrageously high price. She had fed them from her breast. They had survived together the journey across the Red Waste and conquered the Slaver Cities.

 

Dany had been a Khaleesi, the Queen of Meeren and now, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but the dragons were the only thing she had always perceived truly and completely hers. She felt like they had snatched an irreplaceable part of her. She felt she had been betrayed in the most intimate way.

 

Daenerys wanted to think that after spending enough time away from their riders, Rhaegal and Viserion would respond to her once more. However, the uneasiness of the dragons had not dissipated. When they fed them, the dragons tried to escape from the Dragonpit. Drogon, still strongest of the three, had to interfere to subdue them.

 

_What will happen when they become equally powerful?_

 

Dany prayed for never knowing the answer to that question. The last thing she wanted to see was her children fighting.

 

"I wonder if the baby will inherit Aegon's affinity with the white dragon." Margaery had slid a hand to her barely swollen belly.

 

"Perhaps it is better if not."

 

"Why?"

 

_Because that would mean Jon can pass the connection as well._

 

"It is an overwhelming responsibility."

 

"He will be a Targaryen. I'm sure he would deal with it flawlessly." Apparently, Margaery was sure the child would be a boy.

 

"You might be right," Dany conceded.

 

 _Madness or Greatness,_ she thought. Only time could tell.

 

"My Queen, Margaery, is time for the Council meeting." Ser Loras informed them.

 

Aegon had insisted that he wanted Margaery to attend the meetings. Dany would have preferred her not to.

 

She needed the Tyrells on her side to strengthen the Crown position in the Realm; she knew that. But she also knew she had conceded them too much power.

 

She breathed and dismissed her thoughts. "Let's start, my Lords."

 

The first topic they treated was the establishment of the taxes. It took them two hours to reach a decision. Considering the debts, Daenerys had suggested a quantity superior to the one Tyrion and Connington had proposed. They convinced her to approve the lower taxes when they reminded her how close the city was from starting a riot.

 

The common folk had not taken well the departure of their beloved Ice Dragon. They had been upset to see her the first time she addressed them at the King's Square. Not to mention they saw her as an oppressor. Varys had heard citizens whisperings that the presence of the dragons at the capital had the purpose to force them to submit to the Dragon Queen.

 

By the time they reached the topic of winter, crops, and other resources, her head was throbbing. Dany almost missed presiding the trials.

 

"Then is settled," announced Connington.

 

"Is there something else we need to discuss?" she made the question out of habit and repented immediately.

 

"There is, Your Grace."

 

"What is it, Maester?"

 

"A letter from the Crown Prince arrived this morning."

 

"Did something serious happen?" Connington had been about to go mad when Aegon informed them Jon had been abducted by the outlaws from the Riverlands.

 

"The Prince wanted to inform the Small Council of his change of plans regarding his journey."

 

"Which change of plans?" Connington was already sulking.

 

"Let me guess, Maester. He is going North," Margaery didn't look happy either.

 

"No. His Grace is going to judge Freys for the Red Wedding."

 

Jon had been supposed to take care of that.

 

"What is he thinking?" She asked. "There are still rebels at the Westerlands."

 

"I think he made an excellent decision," Tyrion commented as nonchalant as ever.

 

 _I preferred him when he was worried about the Kingslayer._ During the time they thought the Brotherhood would kill Jaime Lannister, her Master of Coin had refrained from doing clever remarks.

 

"He is neglecting his responsibilities to the Crown."

 

"Catelyn Tully and the King in the North were slain during the Red Wedding. The River Lords and the northerners might find it easier to accept the Targaryen Rule if they receive justice," Tyrion made his characteristic wretched smile. "Besides, the Western Lords won't act as long as he has Jaime with him."

 

She didn't overlook that Tyrion had called Robb Stark King, but there was no use to fight over those things.

 

"Answer him, Engel. I want to know the details of that new course he is taking." She ordered.

 

Dany knew there was no way she could convince Aegon to stick to the original plan. He didn't to trust her anymore, and the Council wouldn't protest against his choice. Not for the first time she wondered who was truly ruling over the Realm.

 

"Yes, Your Grace."

 

 _Your Grace,_ she repeated mentally. The words felt false. It had been a long time since she had last felt like the Dragon Queen.

 

 

 

ARYA

 

The procession didn't even start to look for her. Their response to her disappearance had been accelerating the pace of the progression towards the Twins. The reaction hadn't surprised her, though; it wasn't necessary to reflect carefully to predict where she was going. Their mistake was to think she would dare to travel alone.

 

She was conscious that given the weather, she would find it hard to get to the Twins alone. She just disappeared several hours and created confusion. By the time the procession started to move again, she had changed her face and taken a place at the rear of the column. She had traveled with them for five days, and not a soul had recognized her. Not even Jon.

 

On another time, that would have made her sad. She knew she had shown little consideration for what Jon might feel when he discovered she had left. She didn't care. She had stopped caring for anything since she saw her mother like a living corpse.

 

There was no place for sadness, only for revenge. She just wanted them to pay, to know the fear and desperation of having their family destroyed brutally.

 

 _Maybe Arya Stark won't remain long enough to find her justice._ That was almost saddening.

 

As she feigned to be another person, she felt how Arya faded little by little. Having Nymeria near had not helped to stop the process. Ultimately, the only remaining thing would be the hate.  Her only comfort was she would send the Freys to the Seven Hells or wherever people like them went.

 

The procession stopped. She raised her head and saw the stone bridge protected by two identic castles.

 

She moved to the front part of the column to see what would happen in the castle. Still, she couldn't get close enough to hear the conversation between the people from the procession and the inhabitants of the castle. There were some indiscernible shouts, then silence. Finally, the drawbridge was lowered.

 

 _Thoughtless idiots,_ she thought when she saw the Silver Prince's party, Jon included entering the building. The Freys would have the control inside the place. _If he wants to die before sitting on the Iron Throne, is his decision, not mine._

She returned to her place at the rear to wait for nightfall.

 

She was peeling a sack of potatoes for the soldiers' supper when she heard from two squires what had prompted Walder Frey to open the gates of the Twins.

 

"Don't you think he is as mad as his grandfather?"

 

"The Ice Dragon or the Silver Prince?"

 

"The Silver Prince, or maybe both," the first one shrugged. "When the Old Frey refused to open the gates he threatened to call his dragon and turn the Twins into a second Harrenhal."

 

"That doesn't mean he is mad. He knows a siege would take too much time."

 

"Whatever, what happens now?"

 

"They set free the prisoners from the Red Wedding and tomorrow there will be a trial. With all those witnesses, the Prince will have to sentence the entire household."

 

"They deserve it."

 

_They deserve more than that._

 

She decided she would wait and attend the trial. Not because she trusted the judgment of the Silver Prince. She wanted to know which were the specific crimes of each one of the Freys.

 

The next day, before dawn, she slipped into the castle.

 

The hall of the Twins was packed with Freys, northerners, the Golden company, and the Brotherhood. The Silver Prince sat on Walder Frey's throne. Jon was beside him but looked distracted. He was, without a doubt, looking for his little sister among the crowd.

 

_He won't find her._

 

The firsts to speak were the rescued prisoners. Jon Umber looked thin and weak, but that didn't diminish the fervor with wich he demanded to get the honor to finish every Frey himself. Patrek Mallister and Marq Piper provided calmer and more understandable testimonies.

 

The members of the Brotherhood confirmed most of the events based on what they knew from Lady Stoneheart.

 

She learned that Raymund Frey was the one who slit Lady Catelyn's throat; that Black Walder and Lothar Frey had been behind the planning and execution of the Red Wedding.  She added the names to her list along with other two dozens of less importance.

 

The Freys tried to defend themselves arguing that Robb Stark had broken his promise and humiliated them. It was an offending justification.

 

If Aegon Targaryen still had doubts regarding the events, Olivar Frey dismissed them all. The young man presented himself as King Robb's squire. He denounced his blameworthy relatives and asked for the northerners absolution, for not being able to save their King.

 

 _That Frey will remain a little longer._ She decided he was not lying.

 

The Silver Prince dismissed everyone. He said he had to think a proper sentence for each one of the participants.

 

The younger Freys, those who had not taken part in the incident, mainly women, and the Lord of the Twins were secluded in their chambers. The others were sent to the dungeons. Both under the surveillance of the Golden Company or Tarly officers. The Prince knew that wouldn't work with northerner guards.

 

She lingered in the hall long enough to overhear that the northerners and the Brotherhood would keep searching Arya Stark in the adjacent lands.

 

That night, she entered Walder Frey's chamber. The damned geezer was sleeping way too peacefully for her liking. Perhaps he considered he didn't have much life left with or without a sentence.

 

 _If that is the case, I'll make his last days unbearable._ She decided he had to witness the downfall of his cursed family before dying. _He will yearn to be dead._

 

The dungeons were heavily guarded, but the nightshade solved her problem. The guards would wake up with a terrible headache and missing prisoners. She walked to the last cell, entered and closed the door behind her.

 

She extracted the vial from her sleeve. By the time Raymund Frey opened his eyes, she was done applying the balm over his neck.

 

"Wha-" the word turned into a grunt.

 

She took her knife and made a small cut in the man's throat. He could have stopped the bleeding if he had placed his hands over his throat.

 

 _Good,_ she thought when she saw the knowing fear in his eyes.

 

"Right now you must regret what you did to Catelyn Stark," she said before closing the door.

 

The next visit she paid was to Lothar Frey, the mastermind behind the Wedding.

 

She used a different vial on him. As the brew consumed him from the inside, his screams would spread terror among the other prisoners.

 

"What is happening?!"

 

"Those fucking northerners!"

 

"Guards!"

 

The others kept shouting desperately. She would have liked to see their faces, but all the yelling would be heard upstairs. She would return the following night.

 

"Stop!" Someone ordered. She had just exited the main entrance to dungeons.

 

She turned slowly and found an old acquaintance. The bull had grown taller since she last saw him and had learned to hold the sword properly.

 

He gasped. "Have you been in the castle the whole time?" He gave a step towards her.

 

 _I'm losing practice._ She had changed to her original face without noticing.

 

"Guards!" The intensity of the screams had increased.

 

"What have you done?" His blue eyes were full of dread.

 

Was he scared of her? It would be reasonable.

 

"You don't have to be scared. I don't have anything against you." She started to walk again.

 

"ARYA!" He called her after he reacted.

 

"Not Arya. No one," she answered without turning.

 

She didn't return to the camp; it was a risk if she wasn't able to maintain the control of her face.

 

On the morrow, she used a dog to obtain information from the place.

 

Everyone was commenting what had happened the previous night. The Riverlords were pleased. Lord Walder demanded an explanation from the Silver Prince. The last had expelled the northerners from the castle until it was the moment to carry out a sentence he had not determined yet. None of those things mattered to her.

 

At night, she returned to the castle and verified the guards at the entrance were sleep before stepping into the dungeons, but she didn't make it far.

 

"What are you going to do, Arya?"

                                                               

_Does that bull-head want to die?_

"It doesn't concern you."

 

"It does if you are involved, little sister."

 

She froze. She had not recognized the voice until then, but it was enough to make no one relent. She tried to convince herself she didn't care, yet it ashamed her to be caught by Jon. That was why she had left _Needle_ behind. She didn't want the sword to be tainted by her bitterness.

 

"Stop, please," He requested calmly.

 

She didn't have the strength to turn to him.

 

"They must be punished," she managed to say.

 

"Aegon will pass sentence upon them."

 

"I don't want his kingly justice," she turned this time but avoided Jon's stare. "It is not enough."

 

"Maybe, still, what you are doing is not right." He gave a step towards her. "You are degrading yourself to their level."

 

 _How can he speak so calmly?_ It was the first time she found Jon irritating.

 

"Don't you feel the need for revenge?"

 

"I do."

 

 _Liar._ Couldn't he understand how she was feeling?

 

"But you won't do anything."

 

"No. Not what you are doing."

 

She clenched her fists and allowed her anger to erupt. "THEN THEY MEANT NOTHING TO YOU!" The words were cruel, she was aware, but they kept flowing, "THEY WERE NOT YOUR MOTHER AND BROTHER ANYHOW! THAT IS WHY YOU DON'T-"

 

She heard the slap before feeling it.

 

"DON'T SAY THAT EVER AGAIN!"

 

His shout seemed to startle them both. Silence fell heavily between them.

 

"Robb was my best friend. They were my family. Even your mother," he muttered. "You are right," His expression was full of pain. "I am not able to understand how you are feeling. I won't be able to help you the way I couldn't help Robb."

 

She felt hot tears gathering in her eyes after hearing Jon's words. She had not been able to understand him either. They had evaded talking about the subject and had grown apart because of that. She couldn't stand it anymore.

 

"I feel a void," she confessed, her voice shaking, "it hurts. I thougth their deaths would make it disappear, but it just seems to grow larger."

 

Jon got closer and mussed her hair. "The void will remain, Arya." He smiled sadly. "It is the proof that they were significant for you. However, the pain might fade eventually."

 

It sounded so easy when he said it, she dared to believe her pain would actually fade.

 

"Do you think I am a monster for what I've done?" She made the question that had been torturing her for months.

 

"I think you are someone who has suffered more than most would be able to endure."

 

Jon moved closer and embraced her. She felt like an idiot for believing he would repudiate her.

 

Arya clung to him. "I am tired of being no one."

 

"You are Arya Stark. I'll remind you as many times as necessary."

 

"I don't like this place," she said.

 

Jon smiled. "We should return to the campsite then."

 

Once in the tent, she spent the night telling Jon about what she had done since she left Winterfell. This time, she told him everything. The list, the murders, the training. Jon told her about the Watch, the wildlings and his regrets regarding Robb. She felt her soul was lighter when they finished, and she knew Jon felt the same.

 

Jon told her Aegon would carry out the sentence after dawn. Instead of attending, they decided to ride away from the campsite and the castle. She didn't need to witness it.

 

They sat side by side, watching the snow falling slowly, getting a glimpse of Ghost or Nymeria from time to time.

 

"Will my actions cause you trouble?" she asked.

 

"What are you talking about?"

 

"You know, stupid."

 

Jon sighed. "Almost no one knows it was you. They all say it was the gods doing. They infringed the Guest Right after all."

 

 _The Many-Faced God._ She promised that had been the last time.

 

"Won't the northerners complain because of your absence? You are the Lord of Winterfell."

 

"Cyara is there representing Winterfell."

 

"I thought she hated it."

 

"She said you should be my priority," Jon scoffed. "I should start to look for a way to compensate her."

 

"I can think of a way," she said aloud.

 

"Really? How?"

 

"If you haven't realized yet, then you are too stupid. I won't tell you." It might be more amusing that way.

 

"You are not helpful," he frowned.

 

"It is not my fault that you are stupid." Arya fell silent a second. "I'm going to write to Sansa."

 

Jon turned to her with widened eyes. "Are you going to tell her Aegon judged the Freys?"

 

"That is part of the reason," she recognized. "She must be suffering as much as we were, and she is alone. I want her to know I understand."

 

"You could visit the Vale," he offered.

 

Arya shook her head. "I'm not ready to face her directly." Facing Sansa would be more difficult. "There will be time."

 

Right then, she wanted to enjoy that fleeting moment of harmony.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter explains why I couldn't move Jon/Cyara relationship forward (it moved a little tiny bit, though, or so I think). He had something important to solve first.  
> I didn't focus a lot on the trial because that wasn't the point of Arya's POV. Do you agree?  
> I hope Daenerys wasn't that mad and that Brynden was more in character.
> 
> I really hope you have liked the chapter. The longer it takes me to write them, the more insecure I become about them.
> 
> Please leave a comment. I love to read them and they will provide me writing energy.
> 
> Lastly, next chapter: "Dangerous Snow"


	28. Dangerous Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a long, long, long time. I wanted to update sooner than this, but it didn't happen. I needed to rest and this chapter was challenging. I had too much planned for the chapter, and it ended up being monstrous, almost 10k words. I might have to consider splitting chapter from now on.
> 
> On the other hand, the story has been out for more than a year now, so I want to thank all of those who had been following, especially with the horrible updates of the last chapters. I also want to thank for the supporting comments and understanding after announcing I would be taking some time. I wish you can continue liking the story.
> 
> Finally, I hope I can update more regularly from now. I don't think it will happen weekly, though. I know it is a little late now but Happy New Year.
> 
> Enjoy the reading!

 

 

AEGON

 

"Here comes the disgrace of House Tarly."

 

Aegon didn't comment on it. He ignored wich kind of relationship Randyll Tarly had with his son, but judging Jon's expression, he did know but didn't comment either.

 

"Let them pass," Aegon ordered to the soldiers guarding the campsite.

 

The group consisted of the three Maesters sent by the Citadel, a dozen of soldiers sent by Leyton Hightower to escort them and a woman with a young child. Aegon didn't have time to wonder why a woman was traveling with the group of Maesters.

 

"Your Grace." A man with a thick neck and a broken nose greeted him with a bow.

 

"Be welcome, Maester..."

 

"Archmaester Marwyn." The man observed Jon. "I don't want to be impolite, but I believe Lord Stark and I must discuss matters related to the Wall."

 

 _He knows._ It surprised him that someone from Oldtown knew about the White Walkers. Moreover, he seemed to take the subject rather seriously.

 

"We can talk in my tent," Jon gave a quick stare between Randyll Tarly and the Maesters. He preferred the Lord of Horn Hill not to be present.

 

"Lord Tarly, please see that the soldiers and the Lady receive food and a place to rest. My brother and I will receive the Maesters in private."

 

"It will be done, Your Grace." Randyll Tarly did little to hide the distaste he felt for the Maesters, even if one of them was his son.

 

Aegon saw a chubby Maester whispering something to the woman. She was reluctant to separate from him. A stare from the Archmaester made her change her mind.

 

"Olyvar, please tell Cyara to join us."

 

"Yes, Lord Stark."

 

Even after Aegon sentenced a good part of his Household, Olyvar Frey had insisted he wanted to travel with them and serve Robb Stark's heir. Jon acceded rather easily despite the northerners' protests. Aegon didn't need to worry; he was quite sure Arya Stark was following the squire's actions closely.

 

The three Maesters followed them in silence. The chubby one, who could only be Sam Tarly, seemed to be wary of everything while the dark-skinned kept staring at Aegon intensely.

 

"It has been a long time, Sam." They had barely entered the tent when Jon turned to greet his friend. "I had started to think I would never see you again," he added as he clapped Tarly's back.

 

It was the first time Aegon saw Jon smiling so brightly to someone who wasn't Arya Stark. Aegon couldn't help feeling envious. It was a stupid thought; Jon had known Sam Tarly during longer than he had known Aegon, but it stung all the same.

 

"You don't have to make that face, Your Grace," Cyara whispered behind him. "He is just happy to see his friend."

 

Aegon felt his color rising; his expression had completely given away his thoughts. He decided to save himself more shame and remained silent.

 

"You will have time for emotive reunions later, Tarly." Marwyn sat and served himself wine without receiving an invitation. "I'm glad to see the preparations you have made, Lord Stark. Although, they might not be enough at this rate."

 

Jon couldn't have liked the remark but said nothing. He limited to take a seat; Aegon and the Maesters did the same.

 

"We could have done better if we had received help from others, like the Citadel." Cyara fixed her eyes on the Archmaester's. "We asked for six Maesters, and they sent you and two acolytes."

 

Aegon frowned. It was true, Tarly and the dark skinned one didn't carry chains around their necks.

 

"The infamous Winter Maiden." The Maester dedicated her a red smile. "If you are kind enough to listen, my Lady, you will consider yourself fortunate for what you got."

 

Aegon saw Cyara clenching her fists. She didn't seem to like Marwyn. However, Jon didn't give her time to react against him. He took her hand and pulled her softly to the chair beside his. She didn't complain.

 

"What is it that you have to say, Archmaester?"

 

"Before we talk about the North, I must warn you, Prince Aegon." The man's smile had disappeared. "The Citadel is not fond of dragons."

 

"Dragons are difficult to deal with." He knew the people of Westeros were wary of the dragons. If he were in their place, he might feel the same way.

 

"I'm afraid you have not understood, Prince Aegon."

 

"Then you should make yourself clear, Archmaester." Aegon decided he had had enough of the man's secretiveness.

 

"How should I put it? They are building a world without magic, and well, what could be more magical than dragons? "

 

 _This doesn’t make sense._ Talking about killing dragons was pretty much a suicide.

 

"They have no power to face the dragons and they would have to face the reprisal of the Crown.”

 

The man snorted. "The Citadel, might not have an army of its own, but they hold influence over every Household in the Realm; they could start a rebellion against the Targaryen rule in no time. Besides, the Citadel has experience killing dragons.”

 

Aegon was perplexed to hear that. He had not managed to reunite the Kingdoms, and there was already the possibility of a rebellion in the Realm.

 

"Are you threatening me?" He was getting angry.

 

"He came to warn us Aegon." Jon interceded, then regarded Marwyn. "Don't you share the Citadel's objective?"

 

"My mask, ring, and rod are made of Valyrian Steel. I don't fit in their plans either." He paused an instant. "After Tarly made it to the Citadel, I was going to board a ship to meet the Dragon Queen. They stopped me and kept an eye on me until they found in the Wall the perfect excuse to send me away."

 

"They got rid of the nuisances."

 

"Just so, my Lady," he said with a nod. "They sent away them too because they were close to me." He gestured towards the acolytes.

 

"Do you have any idea of their specific plans?" Jon's usual frown had deepened.

 

"Not really, but I'm sure of one thing." The Archmaester's stare upon Aegon became intense. "Although their main objective is to kill the beasts, they will keep an eye on the dragon riders and their kin. They will act depending on your behavior.”

 

 _Margaery._ Aegon made his best to control the terror that invaded him. He made an effort to stop himself from running to his horse and go directly to King's Landing.

 

"You left Maester Aemon with them even though you knew that?!" Jon's voice was utterly alarmed.

 

The Archmaester glowered at the acolytes. "You didn't tell him, Tarly?"

 

"Tell me what?" There was silence. "Sam?" Jon urged his friend.

 

"Maester Aemon died before we made it to Oldtown," Samwell Tarly finally blurted.

 

No one dared to speak for a while.

 

Aegon was shocked to see Jon's pained expression; he must have appreciated the Maester a lot. For him, it was disappointing to know another Targaryen had died. He had been eager to meet Maester Aemon, still, somehow, he could not feel it as a loss. He had not even known about his existence until Jon told him about it.

 

"I see," Jon broke the silence and exhaled before continuing, "We have to inform King's Landing."

 

"I will send a letter to Daenerys and Margaery."

 

 _I should send Duck back to the Red Keep to make sure Margaery will be safe._ Duck was by far the white knight he trusted the most.

 

"I wouldn't trust the Grand Maester's loyalty.”

 

"Will he try to hurt my wife?"

 

“No, as I say before, they are focused on the beasts; the princess shall be fine as long as you don’t do something rash.”

 

"What do you suggest, Archmaester?" He asked while uselessly trying to control himself.

 

"You should carry on with your plans; otherwise, you would raise suspicion. I can deliver the warning to the Queen personally, but I need to get rid of my guards, they are the ones who keep an eye on me.”

 

"Dragons only cause trouble." Aegon heard Cyara muttering; he knew she wasn't talking about the beasts. "Will your acolytes be fine without you?"

 

"Tarly and Alleras have not finished their chain, true, but they have forged the necessary links to help at the Wall." The Archmaester made a pause. "Trust me Lady Stark, I take the situation as seriously as you do."

 

Cyara exhaled. "You should travel with us for a while; we will think of a way to deal with your escort,” she stated. "The crannogmen will guide you to the capital after that."

 

"I appreciate your help, Lady Stark."

 

Cyara turned to regard him. "I'd like to move onto the Wall's issue, Your Grace."

 

Aegon nodded. Cyara stared at him for a while before commencing her conversation with the Archmaester. Perhaps she was expecting Aegon to leave; it wouldn't be rare. For some reason, she believed Aegon had no interest in what was developing at the Wall.

 

 _It is not that I don't care._ He didn't have a single idea of what they were discussing. Right then, for example, Cyara and the Archmaester were engrossed in a talk about giants, wights, and ice spiders; creatures Aegon had only heard mention of in fairy tales.

 

He turned to see Jon was as distracted as he was. But surely it wasn't because he wasn't understanding. Hearing about the death of Aemon Targaryen might have affected him more than Aegon had first thought.

 

"What about the Horn of Winter?" The Archmaester's question called his attention.

 

"He never said a word about it. What of it?"

 

"After Tarly arrived, we analyzed the books Maester Aemon took with him and some registers of the Long Night I attained during my voyages. The artifact is named more than one time."

 

"To be honest, I've always considered it as a myth."

 

"There must be some truth to it." Jon had finally interceded. "Mance Rayder was looking for the Horn before attacking Castle Black."

 

"But he didn't find it, did he?"

 

"Ygritte told me they hadn't, but Mance had a black horn with golden bands on it when Stanis captured him."

 

"What happened to that thing?"

 

"Melissandre burnt it along with Rattleshirt."

 

"Then it wasn't authentic," Cyara stated.

 

"How can you be sure, my Lady?"

 

She shrugged. "If such thing exists, I doubt a bonfire would be enough to destroy it."

 

"Which means the Others could still use it to bring down the Wall."

 

"I dare to say they don't have it either, Jon. Otherwise, the Wall wouldn't remain standing at this point."

 

"Then we should find it before they do." Jon turned to Marwyn. "Archmaester, you said your registers mentioned the Horn."

 

"They do, there is one complication, though," the Archmaester made a pause to smile. "Most of them are written in runes of the old tongue."

 

"I can take a look at them." Cyara offered as if it was nothing. Aegon could read many languages, but he had never met anyone who had knowledge of the old tongue.

 

"That is certainly fortunate, Lady Stark. I hope you are an eager reader because you'll have a lot of work to do."

 

"In that case, I better start right away." She stood up ready to leave.

 

"I'm growing fond of your wife, Lord Stark," he shared with a smirk. "Tarly, Alleras, I'll need your help," he added before exiting the tent with Cyara and the Acolytes.

 

"I didn't know she knew the old tongue."

 

"It is a trait from beyond the Wall." Jon didn't seem surprised. "Many members of the free folk speak the old tongue as well."

 

Aegon nodded. "I thought she would be more reluctant to allow the Archmaester to leave for King's Landing."

 

Jon blinked at him weirdly, as if he had not understood what Aegon had said.

 

"She was upset because the Citadel didn't send the help you asked for, and the Archmaester will go to the Red Keep for my sake." he explained. He was still worried about Margaery but the Archmaester knew better what to do.

 

"She understands your family is at risk." Jon looked almost offended. "She is kinder than you think."

 

 _She has never shown her kindness to me._ In retrospective, she had always treated Aegon respectfully but never warmly; she avoided casual interactions with him. The only topic that had prompted her to utter more than two words was Jon. It had gotten worse after the incident with the Faith and Daenerys' scheme. _I had nothing to do with that._

 

"I never meant to imply she wasn't," he apologized.

 

Jon barely nodded; he was lost in his thoughts again.

 

"What worries you?"

 

"Many things," Jon smiled weakly. "I can't believe Maester Aemon is gone."

 

_So it was that after all._

 

"I wish I could have met him."

 

"It would have made him happy," he sighed. "I was counting with Maester Aemon's counsel to reorganize the North, to face what is coming."

 

"If we were under other circumstances, you know I would go with you, right?"

 

"The North is not something you have to worry about."

 

It might not be what Jon meant, but Aegon couldn't ignore the feeling the words had produced on him. That Jon thought he was another selfish pretender who had claimed the Realm and still, refused to cooperate to protect part of it. The worst was Aegon wasn't be able to contradict the assessment.

 

 _What am I doing to support the North?_ He was marching to recover Riverrun and conquer Casterly Rock while Jon was going to face the end of the world. _Which kind of king am I going to be?_

"If Connington takes care of the West, then I could go to the Wall instead."

 

Jon shook his head. "You deviated too much from your objective because of the Freys." Jon didn't allow him to protest. "Your duty is to put the West under control. If the fight continues at the Wall once you have finished, your support will be most welcome. That would be the best."

 

"It would be the best," he had to agree with Jon because he wouldn't convince him of the opposite.

 

However, Aegon knew it was not right; he wanted to do something, even if Jon was too proud to accept it. He made the necessary arrangements during the night.

 

It was midday when Jon's party was ready to leave for the Neck. Aegon would remain another week before marching to Riverrrun since he still had to appoint a castellan at the Twins.

 

"It is time, Jon," Cyara informed his brother.

 

"Not yet. You have to wait for the stragglers."

 

She eyed him strangely while Jon turned to see the column as if he needed to confirm Aegon was wrong.

 

"I don't..."

 

"Just in time!" Aegon interrupted Jon. "Balaq, you are late."

 

"His Grace informed me of the change of plans just yesterday; most of my men were not ready to leave."

 

"Aegon, what are you doing?"

 

Aegon couldn't repress his smile because of Jon's stunned face. "I'm going to fulfill my duties, don't worry about that. The Arhcmaester suggested a skilled group of archers would be useful at the Wall."

 

"You need those men to take the Rock."

 

"I can ask for reinforcements from King's Landing." He was not going to allow Jon to reject his help this time. "Plus, Jaime Lannister is still my hostage." Aegon clasped Jon's shoulder. "At least, let me do this for you," he added with a smile.

 

"If that is what you want," Jon silently stared at the campsite. "You might be king the next time I see you."

 

"I expect to see you sooner than that," he laughed. "You won't get rid of me easily."

 

"I hope so," Jon raised his hand to catch the falling snow in his palm and intensely stared at it. An instant later, he was embracing a positively shocked Aegon; it was unusual for Jon to show affection. "Farwell, Aegon."

 

"Farewell, Jon." Aegon finally returned the embrace.

 

"Please take care of yourself," Jon said before moving away and mounting his horse.

 

"We will make good use of your men, Your Grace." That was the closer thing to a recognition that he would ever get from Cyara.

 

She turned to leave, but Aegon grabbed her wrist. She stared at him sharply and started to pull back.

 

"Take care of my brother," he murmured.

 

Her expression relaxed. "You don't need to ask," she answered.

 

Aegon stayed where he was a couple of minutes watching how his brother left the campsite; he had started to feel an undesirable sensation, for there had been something incredibly bitter in the way Jon had said goodbye.

 

 _Robb Stark,_ the name emerged in his head without warning, and he suspected Jon's concern about his safety was the reason behind his strange behavior and reluctance to accept his help. The realization produced a sad smile on him; sometimes Jon was such a worrywart. Aegon would miss his brother terribly, but he didn't doubt they would meet soon; he would make sure of it.

 

 

 

CYARA

 

"You don't have to worry about that Usurper that sits on Winterfell, my King!" Greatjon Umber shouted from his place. "It will be my honor to bring you their heads!"

 

"I appreciate your enthusiasm Lord Umber, but we know little of the state of the North; an enemy army could be waiting for us beyond Moat Cailin. We must be careful." Jon had ignored the title his vassal had used; he had learned soon enough Jon Umber would not let go the _King in the North_ thing easily. "Besides, I have to meet Howland Reed before marching to Moat Cailin."

 

The Greatjon assented reluctantly. Jon gave the final orders; he would leave Galbart Glover in charge of the campsite.

 

"I hate these things," Arya commented as she stretched in the chair beside her. "I'm glad it is finally over."

 

"I don't understand why you keep attending the meetings."

 

"I'm looking for liars," she answered plainly.

 

Arya might have decided to leave her revenge behind, but she used her skills to help Jon.

 

"I had forgotten." Cyara couldn't repress her irritated sigh. "I'll leave first."

 

Arya made a dismissive gesture and returned her attention to the people of the meeting. Cyara knew she would choose one of them to follow that night and determine if he was reliable. Arya had a natural talent for it; she would have become the scariest Faceless Assassin if she had stayed at Braavos.

 

Cyara made it to the tent she shared with Jon, decided to sit at the table and keep revising the registers. It wasn't long before she tossed away the first parchment. Reading the runes had proven to be more challenging than she had thought; it required much of her concentration, which was hard to achieve when the procession was moving. She had barely advanced since the Archmaester left for King's Landing.

 

Marwyn the Mage, as Alleras liked to call the man, had departed a fortnight before, leaving behind a worrisome warning and a colossal amount of work for her.

 

 _I shouldn't have opened my mouth._ At that rate, the battle would end before she could finish deciphering the runes.

 

"You left in quite a rush," Jon commented as he shook the snow from his cloak.

 

 _I needed time away from you._ She had had plenty of Jon's justifications for asking her to take the role of the Lady of Winterfell, almost as if he regretted it. Although she had complained because of the overprotective treatment of the northerners, she didn't find her responsibilities particularly bothersome. _Maybe he doesn't want them to get used to someone who isn't going to stay._ He had incessantly repeated how she would be able to leave after they defeated the Others.

 

"I have work to do," she pointed to the mess in front of her. "I haven't made any progress lately."

 

"There is no reason for you to exert yourself because of it."

 

"No one else is going to do it. Plus, none of what I've read until now is of help."

 

"Just leave it be, when we get to the Wall, we'll find someone from the free folk to help you."

 

 _A replacement for me._ He had already assigned most of _her_ tasks to others. She kept wondering whether there was a meaning behind Jon trying to reduce her influence to the minimum. One thing was sure: if she continued with that reasoning, she would start to act irrationally again.

 

"Time is crucial for us," she said, expecting to finish the conversation.

 

Jon frowned. "Stop being obstinate." He moved and pulled the chair along with her away from the table. The action surprised her, but she tried not to show it. "Leave it for today, if you don't rest properly, you won't stand tomorrow's journey."

 

She turned her head to him. "I thought the campsite would stay here until you returned from Greywater Watch."

 

"I thought you would like to come as well."

 

"I have duties to perform here."

 

"Someone else can take care of it." He had the _you are here because you want to_ face that she had come to despise.

 

 _If he wants me to stop meddling with the northern affairs, he should say it directly._ To be fair, she wasn't saying what was in her mind either.

 

"I would make better use of that time if I stayed."

 

She saw something close to disappointment on his face.

 

Jon stepped away, almost cautiously. "I still think you need to rest."

 

"I will." The truth was she didn't want to sleep. The closer they got to the Wall, the stronger Brynden became; sleep was the last thing she wanted.

 

Jon left the next day with some crannogmen and Maege Mormont. With some luck, Howland Reed would be able to provide them information about Winterfell.

 

"You look stressed." Arya had slipped inside the tent again. "It would be easier for everyone if you just told him."

 

"Tell what to whom?" She feigned interest in one of the scrolls in front of her.

 

"You know," Arya said as she peeped over her shoulder.

 

She knew. Arya had been at it for quite a long time, almost as long as Tyrion, and it only made her more irritated. Arya had been pressing her to unveil her feelings; she could even tell Arya was having fun.

 

 _There's nothing funny about it._ More than rejection, what she wanted to avoid was the awkwardness that would surely come after it. Their current relationship was uncomfortable enough for her liking, and she wasn’t going to leave until the attack at the Wall finished.

 

"If I knew I wouldn't be asking, Arya."

 

She smiled, "I can keep on with this game for as long as you want."

 

 _That much I understand._ She repressed a curse.

 

"I'll trust your lack of patience." _Enough for today._ "Did you discover something interesting last night?"

 

Arya's eyes turned bright. "I know Alleras secret."

 

The acolyte had become Arya's favorite target recently.

 

"If you are going to spy on someone you should follow Harrion Karstark, not the acolyte." She didn't know what Jon truly thought about the Lord of Karhold, but she didn't trust him. Although it had been Robb Stark who sentenced his father, Harrion might want to find his _justice_ with Jon.

 

"I have been watching him during a sennight and found nothing worrisome. He can't do anything without his men. We'll have to wait to discover his intentions."

 

"Right; what did you discover about the acolyte?"

 

"He is a woman."

 

"Troublesome. I'll assign her a pair of guards, just in case."

 

"That won't be necessary; she can take care of herself."

 

"Are you sure?"

 

"I am. There is something familiar in the way she carries herself."

 

Cyara set the matter aside; Arya knew Alleras better than she did. "Will you attend today?" Galbart Glover had called for yet another meeting later that day.

 

"I have to watch." Arya wrinkled her nose in aversion.

 

"Then I'll see you there." She had to check on the provisions before the reunion.

 

Samwell Tarly was already inside when she made it to the huge tent; he lowered his usual nervous stare when he saw her.

 

"Hello, Sam, how are Gilly and Aemon?" She greeted as she took Jon's seat.

 

"The- they are fine. Thanks, my Lady," he answered with the stare still focused on his feet.

 

 _Good grief._ Samwell clearly didn't enjoy her company.

 

"You can call me by my name."

 

"I- I don't think the northern Lords would like that."

 

 _That is a good excuse._ When Jon introduced them, she had expected to get along with him. It would have been nice to have someone aside from Arya treating her ordinarily. _I should have learned already not to expect anything good to happen._

 

The silence stayed until Alleras, Balaq, Jon Umber, and Galbart Glover arrived. They were polite with her but unable to hide their discontent at being summoned two days in a row. Cyara furrowed when Harrion Karstark entered; no matter what Arya said, it was dangerous to have him hearing the meetings.

 

"You can start Lord Glover."

 

"Thanks, my Lady." He bowed lightly. "First, is possible our supplies won't last till we reach Winterfell." Galbart Glover stared at her almost accusingly. She had been the one managing the supplies, so if they weren't enough, that would be her fault.

 

"I know. We will replenish resources at Moat Cailin."

 

"There is nothing at Moat Cailin." Jon Umber pointed.

 

"That much I know, my Lords." She tried to ignore the hostile looks at her. "The first ship from Essos will arrive soon. The caravan from White Harbor shall make it to Moat Cailin at the same time we do."

 

There was silence.

 

"Relax, Glover, my brother knows and agrees with it." Arya's words were like magic to calm the Lords.

 

"I hope it turns out well, Lady Stark. For everyone's sake."

 

 _Damn northerners._ She repressed her annoyance at the lack of trust from those men.

 

"It will. What is the other matter we have to discuss?"

 

"A raven arrived from White Harbor." He passed her a parchment. "It is about Rickon Stark."

 

Cyara gave a side look to Sam. Why had he handed the letter to Glover instead of her? She read and pursed her lips at the end; it was her turn to be angry.

 

In the letter, Robett Glover informed that Davos Seaworth had plans to take Rickon Stark to Winterfell, to Stannis Baratheon. Apparently, Wylis Manderly was doing his best to retain him at White Harbor, but the oath his father had made to the stag king complicated things.

 

"Why didn't you inform me of this immediately?" Galbart Glover didn't answer. "Davos Seaworth could be halfway to Winterfell as we speak."

 

"My brother will become a hostage," Arya said, crumpling the paper in her hand.

 

"I'll kill that southron myself," Jon Umber mumbled from his place. "He has no authority to ask White Harbor to hand in Ned Stark's son."

 

"Stannis Baratheon has the means to coerce Lord Manderly to accept." Glover didn't have to remind them Wyman Manderly was a _guest_ at Winterfell. "Being at Winterfell, he still has a strong position in the North. The only one able to deal with him is Lord Stark."

 

Cyara considered the matter; Lord Glover was right. Stannis' privileged position was more likely the reason the other Northern Houses had not answered Jon's inquiries. The man had in his power the strongest castle in the North and a considerable amount noteworthy northerners.

 

Her eyes meet Glover's, who immediately averted them from her.

 

_Something is not right._

 

"Was that the only letter we received from White Harbor?"

 

"It is."

 

"You brother was the one who wrote the response we received at King's Landing, right?" Galbart Glover only nodded.

 

 _Is Wyman Manderly working with Stannis Baratheon?_ He had nothing to win from it, unless... A distressing idea occurred to her. There was only one way to find out.

 

"You don't trust the Manderlys, Lord Glover."

 

That made Glover grimace. "I-" he exhaled. "Lord Wyman is barely more than a prisoner at Winterfell; his family worries for him."

 

"And what is my brother at White Harbor, Lord Glover?" Arya was furious.

 

_This debate won't end well._

 

"I'm going there to pick up Rickon," she declared.

 

"I'll go with you," Arya replied immediately.

 

"Ser Wylis could refuse to hand in the boy."

 

"Then I'll have to persuade him. I'll take a group of ten Lord Glover." The man left to reunite the group. She turned to Sam. "I need you to send two ravens: one to Greywater Watch to inform Jon about it, and a second to Wylis Manderly; tell him I'll go to receive the first ship from Pentos." She walked to the exit, and the Greatjon stopped her.

 

"I support your decision, Your Grace, but you don't have to deal with the scum." She had to raise her head to face the huge man. "Allow me the honor of performing this mission for you."

 

 _I would be an idiot._ She didn't doubt the loyalty of Jon Umber, but he wasn't the right man to deal with the Manderlys.

 

"We are not looking for a fight with White Harbor. I'm sure we can reach a peaceful agreement with Wylis Manderly."

 

"The King wouldn't want you to expose yourself."

 

"Do you think he would want you to defy my authority?" Those had been the right words to persuade Jon Umber.

 

"I could, at least, accompany Her Grace."

 

"Lord Karstark will do that." She raised a hand to prevent another objection from Greatjon. "I'll trust you the safety of the campsite and Arya."

 

"I'm not staying here while you rescue my brother," Arya protested.

 

"We will talk in my tent, Arya. Lord Karstark, prepare to leave."

 

"What was all that?" Arya demanded as soon as they entered the tent.

 

"Jon has more trouble than he thought. If the smuggler takes your brother to Stannis Baratheon, there will be another bloodshed in the North."

 

 _The son of Eddard Stark against the nephew._ The northerners fancied playing the Game more than they wanted to admit.

 

"That is why I have to go with you."

 

"I need you to stay and watch Glover."

 

"I thought you trusted Galbart Glover."

 

_I trust very few._

 

"His brother could be a hostage at White Harbor, and you are not the only one who cares about her family."

 

"I thought you didn't trust Harrion Karstark."

 

"Nothing escapes from you, Arya." She had to laugh. "We might have the perfect opportunity to test his loyalty."

 

Arya scanned the place for a while. Her face had grown serious. "Can you do it?"

 

"Why do you ask?"

 

"You have been distracted lately."

 

_Saying distracted is being generous._

 

"It is because of those things," she pointed the damned registers. "I'll forget about them until your brother is here."

 

"My brother's safety is at stake. Don't lie."

 

"I'll forget about everything until your brother is here," she corrected.

 

"Be careful." Arya handed her the bow. "Don't hesitate to use it of necessary."

 

"I won't."

 

Excluding Anguy and Harrion Karstark, the group was entirely composed of crannogmen, so it had been easy to cross Moat Cailin. They were four days away from the city, but she wasn't sure she could make it to their destiny; she was utterly exhausted.

 

 _I can't dream, not now._ She pinched her nose bridge and tried to ignore the whispers of the leaves. She never knew how affected she would end after receiving a message from Brynden.

 

She adjusted her scarf to cover her nose and returned her attention to Harrion Karstark, who was in charge of the first watch of the night. She tried to convince herself that he had had more than one opportunity to try something, yet it was useless to get rid of her wariness. Harrion Karstark knew Cyara had been observing him, there was no doubt about it, but he had never complained.

 

Her eyelids felt heavy; she closed her eyes just a second, and when she reopened them there was only darkness. The atmosphere of the place though was familiar; it felt just like Brynden's cave under the weirwood.

_"You have refused to listen."_

 

She felt relieved when she heard the voice.

 

_"I thought he didn't allow you to communicate with me."_

_"He doesn't."_

_"Then you must hurry."_

_"There is danger approaching."_

_"We are on our way to the Wall."_

_"No, it's closer. You must warn them."_

 

_"I will."_

_"Wake up."_

 

The first thing she noticed when she opened her eyes was that Harrion Karstark was missing.

 

 _Damn, I knew it._ She observed the rest of the members of the group; they didn't seem hurt.

 

"Anguy." She nudged the archer. "Did you see Karstark?"

 

Anguy turned to the spot where Karstark was supposed to be. "He left."

 

"Wake the rest. We have to find him."

 

The track was clear despite the lack of light. Harrion Karstark couldn't be far.

 

She heard a sound behind a bush and immediately released the arrow. There was a soft whine, which didn't sound human.

 

"Is that a wolf?" Asked Jal, one of the crannogmen.

 

"It is huge, but it is not a wolf." She got closer and extracted the arrow from the dog's throat.

 

"We are too far from a castle. How did it get here?"

 

The ferocious growls, which kept getting closer, didn't give them time to ponder over the question.

 

"Hurry, bastards! My girls found a prey!" Someone shouted in the distance.

 

 _He was dead. Brynden told me he was dead._ She felt the dread invading her.

 

"We have to get out of here. Now." The phrase came out of her mouth too late. She could already perceive movement in the vicinity.

 

"What happens with Karstark?"

 

"Forget about Karstark. We are in trouble." She reached for another arrow, and the others drew their weapons.

 

"Look what we have here." All she could see was a shadow among the trees. "This hunt will be unexpectedly amusing."

 

Cyara had never met him, but she knew who was standing in front of them was worse than any wight army.

 

 

 

JON

 

He did his best to finish the letter.

 

_You should have stayed dead, bastard. I found the frogeaters that support you and the whore you call wife. She killed five of my girls. I was planning to kill her slowly, but she was a good hunt. I have other plans for her. You stole my bride and my Reek. Now I will keep your whore for me. Surrender at Moat Cailin if you want her back._

_Ramsay Bolton, Trueborn Lord of Winterfell_

 

Receiving a letter from Ramsay Snow was not surprising. One of the first things he had learned from Howland Reed was the monster had survived and escaped from the battle for Winterfell. The contents of the letter, on the other hand, were more than disturbing.

 

"Is everything alright, Jon?"

 

"No, Sam." Jon closed his sword hand. "I need to talk with Arya and Howland Reed."

 

"I'll go for them," Sam said immediately.

 

"Sam, don't tell anyone about this letter."

 

His friend nodded before leaving the tent.

 

 _What were you thinking, Cyara?_ But he knew the answer. Despite how rushed it had been, Cyara's decision had not been thoughtless.

 

Arya had told him how the events had developed during that urgent meeting after he left. Cyara had considered Stannis, Robett Glover, and Wyman Manderly along with his son and granddaughters. She had not considered Ramsay Snow.

 

_She was sure he was dead._

 

Arya gave him a questioning stare as soon as she entered the tent.

 

"Ghost, to the entry." No one would enter unannounced. "What I'm about to show you must stay between the three of us."

 

He extended the letter to Howland Reed.

 

"Is he telling the truth?" Howland Reed tried to hide the concern in his voice.

 

"I was expecting Arya could tell me."

 

Arya bit her lip as she examined the contents of the parchment. "The jerk knows about the group Cyara took, but it is vague. He doesn't mention Rickon, Harrion Karstark or White Harbor."

 

"So he could be lying." He felt slightly relieved.

 

"If he didn't intercept them, then someone from the campsite is informing him." Howland pointed out.

 

That wasn't relieving at all.

 

"I'll put more attention to my targets."

 

"I'll leave that in your hands, little sister."

 

He didn't find pleasant that Arya kept using what she learned at the House of Black and White, but at least, if they worked together, he was aware of her actions.

 

"Do you want to change the plan to take Moat Cailin?"

 

_I do._

 

"Only one thing: Ramsay Snow must be captured alive."

 

"I understand."

 

"That would be all Lord Reed."

 

"Are you sure about it, Jon?"

 

His first answer was a sigh. "If this is true," he lifted the parchment, "what is my alternative? I can't surrender to Ramsay. And even if I yielded, he wouldn't give Cyara back."

 

"The best chance is to crush him, am I right?" Arya smiled lightly. "Besides, Cyara might have put an arrow through his ass before we arrive."

 

Jon would have liked to share Arya's optimism.

 

He nodded. "I'll ask Wylis Manderly just to be sure."

 

R _amsay is lying. He lied about Arya, lied about Stannis, and he is doing it again._ That became his prayer the whole way to Moat Cailin.

 

"I thought you would lead the attack from the north." Sam was standing by his side observing the three remaining towers of Moat Cailin in the distance.

 

After a long deliberation, they had decided to use the plan Robb had conceived to retake the North from the Ironborn. Howland would direct two-thirds of their forces to position themselves north from the stronghold. Then, he and Jon would attack Ramsay's resistance at the same time.

 

"Why would I do that?" He still had his stare fixed upon the Causeway. "Howland Reed knows his way through the swamp better than I do, and Ramsay will focus his attention on the South if he knows I'm the one leading the attack."

 

Galbart Glover had said it was too much effort to take down Ramsay Snow, that he wasn't strong after battling with Stannis. Jon knew, better. Ramsay might not be the great menace he was when he sent the first letter, but he was dangerous and hated Jon. Even in defeat, he would try to damage them as much as possible.

 

_His message has already done enough damage to my resolution._

 

"Those who attack from the north will reach the towers first."

 

 _You don't have to tell me._ Jon had made his best to maintain his concern away so that he could take the right decisions. Sam wasn't helping him; his friend understood him better that it was convenient.

 

"This is the best strategy, Sam."

 

Sam was about to say something else; thankfully, Nymeria's first howl interrupted him. They waited in silence until she howled two more times before going silent.

 

"That is the signal from Howland Reed. It is time, Sam."

 

"Good luck, Jon."

 

"Thanks, my friend."

 

He took a deep breath before retrieving Longclaw; there would be too much at stake during the battle for Moat Cailin, and he still had not received a reply from Wylis Mandelry.

 

 _Please let Robb's plan work, he prayed._ He didn't even want to think about Cyara. _Please let Arya stay safe._

 

Ravens had resulted ineffective to communicate, so Arya decided to go with Howland's group and left Nymeria behind to inform when they were in position. Jon had allowed her to go despite knowing she would not keep her promise of staying out of the battle. After all, she had the right to take part in the recovery of their home.

 

"Lord Stark, Greatjon is eager to leave." Maege Mormont had gone to look for him.

 

"We all are, my Lady."

 

Jon took his position with Nymeria by his side. He felt his heartbeat increasing as he approached the Gatehouse Tower. The road was full of rotting bodies impaled; a welcoming befitting of Ramsay.

 

 _This encounter has waited for far too long._ He was the one who should have taken Winterfell from the Boltons, not Stannis.

 

They were almost in the archers reach when he heard the shout.

 

"Did you come to surrender, bastard?!" No one had to tell him whose voice was that.

 

Jon made a signal, and everyone stopped. He tried to discern which tower was the origin of the yell, but it was useless.

 

"You can't win, Ramsay!"

 

"So you don't surrender! Does that mean I can keep Lady Stark?!" The monster laughed at the end.

 

Jon closed his eyes and tried to control himself; he could already hear the men whispering. It was a fortune that Syronno's servants had stayed at the campsite.

 

"You didn't tell your idiot followers?!" Ramsay laughed hysterically again; his laughter echoed everywhere. "You keep lying, bastard! You lied about Mance Rayder! Have you told them that you allowed the filthy wildlings to cross the Wall?! Have you told them it was your fault Stannis took Winterfell?!"

 

He clenched his fists with all his strength; it was not the moment to lose his control.

 

"Your Grace," the Greatjon called him, "we should silence that pest already."

 

That made him smirk.

 

"You stole the words from my mouth, Lord Umber." Jon unsheathed Longclaw. "Advance."

 

They lifted their shields as the projectiles started to fall upon them. Ramsay continued to shout taunts all the time.

 

Their advancements were slow, for they were trying to keep the casualties to the minimum and it was difficult to advance through the causeway and the cold water. However, it wasn't long before they started to hear the enemy struggling with the host led by Howland Reed.

 

Jon saw enemies fall from the crenelations; he barely heard his own voice shouting orders in the middle of the ruckus, Thoros and Greatjon's laughter included. He only confronted enemies directly when they reached the base of the Children's tower.

 

He had killed four men before the battle ended. Jon turned around and realized it had not been a particularly difficult or long battle. They were all soaked because of the freezing water of the swamp but had not suffered more than one loss. Glover had been right about Ramsay's strength.

 

_What was he expecting to get from it?_

 

"It is safe to enter the towers now, Lord Stark," Maege Mormont informed him. "Lord Reed captured the bastard at Drunkard's Tower."

 

"I'll deal with Ramsay personally. You are in charge of the rest of the prisoners, Lady Mormont."

 

Arya was waiting at the entrance of the tower with Ghost by her side. She smiled as soon as she saw him.

 

"Not a single scratch." She lifted her hands. "I told you I would be fine."

 

"I'm glad you are safe, little sister." He mussed her hair. "Is he inside?"

 

"He is; his men abandoned him when we broke into the tower."

 

"Did he say something about Cyara and the others?"

 

"He has been shouting all kind of things, but we registered the place and none of them is here."

 

"I'll finish with this madness once and for all."

 

"I'll go with you."

 

"That is not a good idea Arya."

 

Jon saw her rolling her eyes. "He is in chains." She smiled. "Besides, if he tries something, I'll stick him with the pointy end." She tapped the pommel of Needle.

 

"Fine."

 

"How did it go?" Jon asked Howland Reed, who was standing in front of the door that led to Ramsay.

 

Howland made a worried face. "It was too easy, Jon. He is up to something."

 

"I have to discover what it is. Don't allow anyone to enter."

 

In the empty, dark cell Ramsay resembled a bulk. Jon wondered whether he was still alive.

 

"The bastard has decided to grace me with his presence." He sat up. "Did you come to beg for your whore's life?" The shadows made Ramsay look like a real monster. "Worry not, bastard, she isn't dead, not yet." Something in his grin was terribly unsettling.

 

"I know you are lying, Ramsay. It is over."

 

"I have grown fond of her," he continued, ignoring Jon. "You should have heard her, the way she screamed every time I visited her. I got aroused just by seeing the fear in her eyes." Ramsay laughed yet again. "I bet you have not enjoyed her the way I have, bastard."

 

"I think he has gone crazy, Jon."

 

_Arya is right; I'm losing my time here._

 

"You will pay for your crimes against the North."

 

"If you kill me you won't be able to find her."

 

"Your lies won't save you." Jon was about to leave. There was no way to deal with Ramsay.

 

"She even gave me a token for the battle."

 

Ramsay tossed something at his feet; it landed with a soft puff on the wet stone. Jon felt a cold grip on his spine when he discerned just what it was.

 

 _It is not hers; it can't be hers,_ he repeated despite the way his jaw trembled uncontrollably. When he saw Ramsay's sinister smile, Jon realized he had made a mistake expressing his thoughts so plainly.

 

"Set me free, and I'll guide you to where she is. Just you and me, bastard."

 

Jon didn't answer. Instead, he turned hastily and exited the cell; only when he was in the hall he realized how agitated was his breathing and that he had left Arya inside.

 

"Is this truly hers?" Arya was observing the thick tuft of hair with a deep frown married to her Stark face. She locked her stare in his and grimaced. "Judging your expression, it _is_ hers."

 

"He could have taken it from another woman." He was trying to remain reasonable, for he didn't want to repeat his past mistakes. "Setting Ramsay's intervention aside, how much would it take Cyara's group to reach White Harbor and get here with the supplies?"

 

Howland considered his question. "A fortnight. They should have arrived two days ago."

 

"We will wait another two days. After that... I'll have to call for a reunion with the others."

 

 _And send a message to Syronno._ He didn't want to think about it.

 

"Howland, I don't want anyone to get close to this cell. No one must speak to him. I'll be at the Gatehouse Tower if you need to find me."

 

"It will be done."

 

"Thank you."

 

 _The length and the color are right,_ he reflected as he made his way out of the Drunkard's Tower. _If Cyara didn't bump into him, how could Ramsay get the features right?_

 

"Jon!" Arya's shout extracted him from his ruminations.

 

"I'm sorry, Arya. Did you say something?"

 

Arya frowned angrily and pulled him away from the towers and the people.

 

"Why are you keeping it a secret?"

 

"Because I'm not sure he is telling the truth."

 

"Liar."

 

"Arya..."

 

"I thought we promised to be honest at the Twins."

 

Jon averted his eyes from his sister. It was both a curse and a blessing to have her by his side at that moment.

 

"The last time Ramsay did something like this, I acted hastily, and things ended badly."

 

Arya's expression softened. "They are not going to stab you for wanting to save her."

 

"I can't risk everything because of a deceit."

 

"You are acting stupidly; you don't know whether it is a deceit."

 

"It might be so, but I can't think of any other way."

 

"I could extract the truth from him."

 

"I won't ask you to do that, Arya."

 

"Why not?"

 

"I'm trying to keep you away from that path."

 

"Are you just going to wait until you find her body?"

 

He swallowed hard because of Arya's assessment. "We will wait until the day after tomorrow. Then I'll decide."

 

Arya turned and left him there, anger blatant in her face.

 

_I have to calm down._

Jon couldn't sleep that night and didn't leave his room at all; everything Ramsay had said prevented him from doing so. He couldn't ger rid of the vision of Ramsay raping Cyara countless times.

 

He reached his limit just before the next day's dusk. It might be the most stupid thing he had ever done, but he had to see Ramsay.

 

"You said you would wait until tomorrow." Arya was waiting at the end of the hall.

 

"What are you doing here, Arya?"

 

"Preventing you from doing a stupidity." She walked to him and took his hand. "Why do you insist on doing this alone?"

 

"It is something I have to solve myself."

 

"I can help; you only have to ask."

 

Jon shook his head.

 

"I have done worse things for pettier reasons."

 

Jon pulled his hand away from hers; he could already feel his resolution faltering.

 

"Arya, I..."

 

The sound of the horn interrupted him. It had been a single blow, which meant allies.

 

"The banners belong to White Harbor," Howland informed with a lively expression.

 

Jon ran outside with Arya in tow. He felt an immense relief when he saw the column with Harrion Karstark ahead of it and Cyara's hooded figure already talking to Galbart Glover, more likely regarding the supplies.

 

"Lord Stark," Harrion bowed his head lightly as greeting when he dismounted. "Allow me to introduce you to Lady Wynafryd Manderly, granddaughter of the Lord of White Harbor."

 

"Lord Stark, it is my pleasure to meet you," she said with a bright smile.

 

Jon was not in the mood for futile introductions. "Your father didn't answer my message regarding my wife and Ramsay Snow," was the first thing he pointed out.

 

The Lady and Harrion Karstark exchanged a stare; it was the last who answered.

 

"Lady Stark wrote the reply herself," Harrion informed him a bit uncomfortable.

 

 _Maybe the snow prevented the birds from reaching us._ Perhaps it had been Ramsay, but it didn't matter anymore.

 

"In that case, I apologize, Lady Wynafryd. Now if you excuse me, I must..."

 

"Rickon!" Arya shouted before running to the center of the column.

 

Jon couldn't hide his excitement and ran after Arya. The Others took his image as Lord of Winterfell. His little brother was back.

 

The image of Rickon broke his heart. From afar, he looked just like Bran before he fell from the tower at Winterfell. However, as he got closer, he discerned a hardness in Rickon's Tully eyes, which Bran's had never possessed.

_What was I expecting?_ Arya, Sansa and him, their eyes had changed as well; it was the proof of what they had gone through.

 

A black dire wolf stepped between them and Rickon, snarling at them. Rickon stared at them, his eyes full of mistrust; his and shaggydog's emotions were pretty much the same. Jon's little brother relaxed after Nymeria and Ghost appeared in front of them; despite the years, the dire wolves seemed to recognize each other immediately.

 

"Rickon," Arya was the first to speak. "We have been waiting for you. You are safe now."

 

Rickon didn't answer.

 

"Don't you recognize us?" Jon knelt in front of him.

 

Rickon stared at Ghost and Nymeria. "Jon and Arya," he replied plainly. "You look like father."

 

"Do you remember?"

 

"No, the Lady told me."

 

"Lady Manderly?" Jon was confused; he had not met Wynafryd Manderly before that day.

 

"The little Lord means your wife." A tall woman, clearly from the free folk, provided him the answer.

 

"Are you Rickon's friend?" Jon stared at the woman curiously.

 

"Yes, Osha is my friend," Rickon answered promptly. "They are my friends too." Rickon pointed to a small group of members of the free folk at the rear of the column.

 

"I have kept him safe like I promised the Maester of Winterfell I would." The woman added.

 

"Then we are indebted to you."

 

"I don't need your gratitude," she snapped harshly. "I did it because I like the little Lord."

 

"I understand." Any other man would have felt insulted, but Jon had dealt with the free folk before.

 

"Lord Stark," Harrion Karstark interrupted them. "I need to speak with you."

 

"Can't it wait?"

 

"No," Harrion said with a serious face.

 

Jon regarded Rickon; he was still wary, but attentively listening to something Arya was whispering at him. Arya knew how to deal with people.

 

"Rickon," he called. "There is something I must do, but Arya will stay with you. We can talk as we share supper later."

 

"I always have supper with Osha." Rickon took the woman's hand; she might be the only one he trusted.

 

 "She is invited too, of course."

 

That prompted Rickon to smile.

 

 _He doesn't consider us family._ Jon knew they would have to work if they wanted to get Rickon's trust.

 

"What is it Lord Karstark?"

 

 

"I understand your brother is your priority, but if you allow me, you should speak with Lady Stark about what happened with Ramsay Snow."

 

"What do you mean?" Cyara had no need to hear about Ramsay's derangements.

 

"The Lady declared Ramsay's attack didn't affect her. I find that hard to believe."

 

Jon blinked at Harrion Karstark when he understood the implication of his words.

 

"You said you hadn't had an encounter with Ramsay."

 

"I said the Lady had answered your inquiry herself. We hardly managed to get to White Harbor after being attacked by Ramsay and his feral dogs."

 

 _'She killed five of my girls.'_ Ramsay had written in his letter.

 

"I'll speak to her."

 

He directed to their chamber almost violently. He couldn't believe she had not told him about it immediately.

 

He found her sitting by the window with the hood still covering her head.

 

"Were you planning to keep the secret?"

 

"I didn't know my answer had not reached you," she answered without regarding him.

 

"You could have told me right after you arrived."

 

"I supposed you would be eager to meet your brother."

 

"I would like to be with Rickon, yes, but what happened to you is serious."

 

"You captured him already. It isn't important anymore."

 

Her tone was emotionless. It reminded him of how it was when they had just met. Jon couldn't help feeling irritated. Sometimes it was incredibly easy to speak with her; and others, it was completely impossible. He couldn't understand what incited the change in her.

 

Although Jon liked to respect her space, he had had enough of her evasiveness. He walked to her and pulled her shoulder to make her turn. Only then, he noticed the plaster on her right forearm.

 

Jon lifted her gaze to her still covered face. He heard her sighing before removing the hood to reveal the results of her encounter with Ramsay. The right side of her face had a large bruise up to the cheekbone; her hair roughly reached her ears now. What Ramsay had tossed at his feet that evening had truly been her locks.

 

"He did this to you?" he asked a stupidly obvious question. Jon didn't know what to tell her.

 

She turned away. "Don't be dramatic, Snow. It certainly could have been worse."

 

"Tell me what happened."

 

"Ask Anguy or Karstark."

 

"I'm asking _you_ ," he stated firmly.

 

She fixed her stare on the window. "Karstark had disappeared during his guard, and we went to look for him, but Ramsay's feral dogs found us first. The dogs attacked us along with Ramsay's gang; they killed six crannogmen. Ramsay went for me after he heard someone calling me Lady Stark; he had me by the braid, so I cut it to get away. We struggled while the others fought the dogs; that was when he struck me in the face," she paused. "This," she said raising the plaster, "was a gift from one of his dogs."

 

Cyara had finished her explanation in almost a single breath, apparently not affected at all. Jon didn't believe her.

 

"Did he assaulted you?"

 

"No, he tried, though. Karstark got right in time to help us escape." She turned to him this time. "Are you done with the interrogatory?"

 

Jon didn't know whether to feel relief or concern. The incident sounded terrible, but not as terrible as it could have been considering Ramsay's reputation.

 

He found himself suddenly embracing her. She stiffened but didn't pull away. They stayed like that for a brief moment.

 

"What are you doing?" Her voice muffled by the cloth of his tunic.

 

"What you did after Howland told me the truth or after the Hollow Hill."

 

"That only makes this more awkward." She pushed him softly and stared straightly at him. "I admit I made a reckless decision concerning Rickon."

 

"I don't think it was reckless." That was not the reason he had been annoyed. "You said we were together in this madness, but you keep detaching and making decisions on your own. I don't understand _why_."

 

She lowered her gaze to her hands. "Arya could be right."

 

"About what?"

 

Cyara clenched her fists and pursed her lips. She was clearly struggling with something he ignored. When she finally lifted her eyes, Jon didn't have the occasion to ask what it was. She had already leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. It was just an instant.

 

Cyara pulled back, looking at him expectantly. He could merely gape at her.

 

"Say something."

 

"Why did you do that?"

 

Her face was full of incredulity. "Are you honestly asking me that?"

 

"You can't mean..." The first thing he felt was panic, which unmistakably got the best of him. "It is wrong," he blurted, realizing way too late his poor choice of word. "That is not what I wanted to say." He had no idea what he wanted to say.

 

She stood and directed to the door rather desperately.

 

"Wait," Jon called from the window, he had not been able to move.

 

"Forget about it. It was my mistake."

 

She closed the door.

_How was I supposed to answer to that?_ His mind had gone completely blank. That was not how their talk should have ended.

 

 

 

BRAN

 

He was flying again. It had taken time, but he had gotten better at it; he could fly farther away and see clearer than before. He was close to the Lands of Always Winter; he could feel it.

 

He had a mission, but he couldn't help being distracted by the all the new things he was seeing. All the places he would never see in person.

 

Bloodraven had told him it was irrelevant; he had to leave behind his personal desires, his attachments, including his family. The three-eyed raven had no family.

 

Bran got glimpses of them from time to time, but he could not communicate with them. Only Rickon seemed to understand him when he called them through the trees. He had tried to talk with the girl Bloodraven had sent to guide Jon and Arya. It had been ineffective; for some reason, she refused to listen.

 

He started to feel colder and returned his attention to his objective. What he saw almost paralyzed him, like the first time he had flight beyond the Wall, when he was still at Winterfell.

 

He returned immediately to his body, his breath agitated.

 

"It is terrible," was the first thing he said.

 

"What did you see?" Brynden asked him.

 

"They are moving south, all of them."

 

"Yes, time is over. You know what you have to do."

 

"Call the dragons."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, some might hate me for the way I ended Jon's POV; it had to be that way. I know this is still painfully slow. I'll keep studying to improve my romance writing.  
> The battle was deplorable, but that was not the kind of confrontation I wanted Jon and Ramsay to have.  
> Bran's intervention was too short; it was just an introduction.
> 
> The next update will be for Promise me, I hope it doesn't take long.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading. Please comment.
> 
> Next chapter: "Different"


	29. Different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate it took me so long again, but adult responsibilities are merciless. Besides, I swear developing romance is the most difficult thing in the world. I have researched from Pride and Prejudice to Fifty Shades of Grey (almost); from shoujo manga to Mexican soap operas and so on. In the end, I did what felt better suited for the story, but I'm not sure.
> 
> Anyway, I hate to spoil the plot, but I find myself in the need to add a couple of warnings to prevent a debate about "tagging etiquette"  
> WARNING 1: Considering the pairing tags, I doubt there is a Gendrya shipper reading but know that the upcoming chapters could be hard to read for you.  
> WARNING 2: For those who came precisely trying to avoid Gendrya stories, know that there will be necessary interactions between Gendry and Arya.... which will ultimately lead to Arya/Trystane.
> 
> Enjoy the reading!

 

 

SANSA

 

Harry kissed her forehead and whispered praises to her hair before rolling off her, pulling her close to him. Sansa sighed; it was the third night in a row that he had slept with her, and it was becoming a bother.

 

Sansa didn't despise having sex with Harry, in fact, she enjoyed the act; it was nowhere close to what Septa Mordane had told her all those years ago. For all his shortcomings, Harry was a skilled lover and thought of her pleasure as well as his; he always knew what he was doing, and she could even tell he enjoyed her reactions. After their first night together, she supposed she would have to thank all of his previous lovers for Harry's experience.

 

The problem was Harry had not strayed from her bed, not once, since they got married and visited her chambers regularly. As things were, they would end up sleeping together every night, something that was not convenient for her plans. She needed privacy to receive the messages from her informants.

 

 _Does he want to put a child on me already?_ Perhaps that was the reason he had not strayed from her bed. Sansa lifted her stare to Harry's calm face. _Simpleton._

 

If he was not; he would have realized they had to secure their position in the Vale before thinking of children. Sweet Robin's death, along with the disclosure of Petyr's deceivings had left them both in a precarious position; they had, after all, pretty much ended where Petyr had planned. Half of the Lords of the Vale, Anya Waynwood and Yohn Royce included were on their side, but Nestor Royce and Randa.... she had reasons to suspect they were responsible for the gossip about hers and Harry's implication in Robin Arryn's death.

 

She had considered what could be the best strategy to strengthen Harry's rule on the Vale; from using Petyr's knowing of the Lord's debts to play the young, naïve Lord and Lady of the Vale. She decided that she couldn't be that ruthless from the beginning and returned the promissory notes to her potential allies. She had not seen Anya Waynwood smile wider after or before that day.

 

Sansa still had no idea of what to do about Randa and her father, but she would solve her issue with Harry in the morning.

 

Harry moving beside her woke her up the next day; he looked handsome even when with his bedhead. She blinked at him, and he smiled.

 

"Did you sleep well, my love?"

 

"Yes Harry, thank you." She sat up. "Are you going to Gulltown today?" She needed some time alone.

 

"Why would I go there?"

 

 _Does he want to pretend?_ She would accept many things from Harry; to be treated like an idiot was not one of them.

 

"You have not visited your daughter since you left for King's Landing," she said lowering her gaze.

 

Anya Stone was her name; a lame attempt from Saffron to win over Lady Waynwood. Of course, that was when she was still pretending to be Alayne; after revealing herself as Sansa Stark, the merchant's daughter had lost all opportunity to get Harry back.

 

Harry looked insulted. "I will not see her anymore," he declared.

 

 _I do not believe it._ Harry had been proud of his daughters; he had not even cared to hide the fact that he had sired bastards when they met.

 

"And why is that?"

 

"Because I don't want to offend you, my love." She sat beside her and cupped her face.

 

"Harry, I said it was fine."

 

"It is not; I made an oath to you, and I will keep it. From now on, you will be the only woman in my life, and the only children will be the ones we have together," he said with earnest expression before giving her a soft kiss.

 

Sansa kept an indecipherable expression. Sometimes, she wished she didn't have the need to look for lies in everything people said: it would have been good to be able to do it, with Harry at least. Living mistrusting her husband's words was not an encouraging prospect.

 

"Are you eager to have trueborn children?" She found the opportunity to broach the subject.

 

Harry looked shocked by her question. "Every Lord needs heirs."

 

"Is that why you have been coming to my chambers regularly?" She blushed; she knew Harry liked to see her blushing. He didn’t answer. "Do you want to have them right now?"

 

"Is there a reason to wait?" He made a pained expression. "Perhaps you don't want to have my children."

 

 _I don't want to have them now._ She had to talk Harry out of it; she could drink moon tea, but she might get in trouble for doing it at Harry's back.

 

"I guess we could search for a little falcon," she said while she carded her fingers through his hair. "Although that would mean I would have to center my attention on the baby and not you. Would you like that?"

 

"Do you think I would?" He had already buried his face in the crook of her neck, his hands looking for the hem of her nightgown.

 

 _I knew that much._ Sansa smiled to herself.

 

Harry searched her mouth, and she stopped him. She identified the fervent desire in his blue eyes.

 

"Do you agree to wait until I'm ready?"

 

"I'll brew you the moon tea myself," he groaned as he pushed her softly to the mattress.

 

His answer prompted her to giggle. "I knew you would understand." She pulled the collar of his shirt to kiss him.

 

Harry took his time to touch her, to make her crave for him. He always did it that way, and she couldn't deny it worked. Sansa was customarily the one who dragged him to her, the one who asked for more.

 

"My she-wolf," he whispered in her ear while he was inside of her.

 

She gave him a more incoherent response as she clung to him with all her strength.

 

Harry didn't get off her after they finished. Instead, she looked directly into her eyes with an earnest expression.

 

"I love you, Sansa."

 

"I love you too, Harry," she replied.

 

 _I would like to love you._ That was the thought that automatically followed her answer. She did not hate Harry, but she didn't found the idea of love appealing anymore; love was for songs, and she lived in the real world.

 

"As much as I love to be in bed with you," Harry was dressing. "I must prepare to receive the Lords." Harry kissed the crown of her head. "You should get ready too."

 

"I will."

 

The meeting was the most boring they had held in weeks; it was about supplies and the winter and the offenses of the Dragon Queen. The Lords of the Vale keep complaining, saying Daenerys Targaryen was as crazy as her father and would send the dragons after the Vale.

 

 _Had she killed Petyr, she would have saved herself from the Lord's rage._ It was useless to think about it; the Dragon Queen could not change what she had done.

 

"The Queen won't do that," Harry assured them. "The last thing she wants is to start a war at the beginning of her rule."

 

"A Targaryen with dragons doesn't see common sense." Yohn Royce pointed out.

 

"The Queen won't want another Dance of the Dragons."

 

"If she were to cause difficulties, my cousin would support the Vale," Sansa added to support Harry's statement.

 

"We will have to trust Lord Stark then," Lady Waynwood said, not convinced at all.

 

"We'll gather again if needed. Go rest, my Lords." Harry finished the reunion.

 

Sansa hurried to reach Randa before she excited the Council Chamber from the Gates of the Moon.

 

"I was wondering if you would drink tea with me, Randa."

 

The woman arched a brow; her way of treating Sansa had changed since she returned from King's Landing.

 

"Why would my Lady grant me such honor?"

 

Sansa made a surprised face. "Because you are my friend."

 

"Really? Are friends supposed to keep secrets from each other?"

 

 _That is not what bothers you._ Sansa could have laughed.

 

"I could not tell anyone, Randa, I already explained you the reason: I was Lord Baelish's hostage."

 

"My father and I could have helped you."

 

"I was scared," Sansa said lowering her gaze. "I'm sorry about it."

 

"Fine," Randa clasped her shoulders. "I wouldn't be able to hold a grudge against someone like you, dear."

 

_You can lie better than that._

 

"Thank you, Randa."

 

They talked for hours about trivial things, like Randa's marriage prospects, Mya Stone's new love interest or what they would ask the seamstress to make later. Randa didn't show resentful with Sansa again, but it was early to draw any conclusion. She had to hold another dozen of conversations with Randa to determine whether she was her enemy.

 

Randa had just left when Maester Colemon came to see Sansa. "A letter arrived for you, my Lady."

 

"Is it from the Queen?" Sansa had sent Margaery a letter a couple of days before to inquire about her pregnancy.

 

The Maester shook his head. "I think it is from Lord Stark."

 

"Really?" Jon had no reason to write to her, did he?

 

 _Perhaps he is asking for reinforcements from the Vale._ Stannis Baratheon could have refused to yield Winterfell or the situation at the Wall had worsened. _It will be difficult to send help with the Lords wary of King's Landing._

 

She broke the seal to discover how wrong she had been. It was a letter from Arya, written in her careless calligraphy.

 

_Sansa,_

_Jon was hesitant to tell you about this, for it would mean to remind you of the Red Wedding, but I believe you have the right to know. The Silver Prince came with us to the Twins to judge the Freys; he sentenced some and punished the rest. It is no enough; it is not what they deserved, but it is over._

 

Sansa reread those lines over and over again. She should be glad, satisfied to receive such news, but she wasn't able to feel anything. Back then, when she was at King's Landing, she had resigned to the fact that there would never be justice for Robb and her mother. Now, it barely seemed real, and it wasn't relevant; it didn't change anything.

 

The second part of the letter was difficult to read, for it was full of crossing-outs; that was something typical from Arya. Most of it was unreadable, but the last part made her heart ache.

 

_We were never close at Winterfell and what happened when we were at King's Landing doesn't help. However, that doesn't mean I can't understand your grief; I know how it is to deal with it alone. As things are, it would be difficult now, but I'll visit the Eyrie as soon as I can to make sure your stupid husband treats you well._

_Arya_

 

For an instant, that was enough to make her wish she would have made the journey back home with Jon, Arya, and Rickon. It disappeared immediately; she would never go back to Winterfell, she couldn't. Arya might be able to forgive her for King's Landing; the letter was proof of it. The thing was, Sansa wasn't sure she could forgive herself.

 

 _If I had gone with them..._ she dismissed the idea.

 

She folded the letter again, and threw it to the crackling hearth; she couldn't doubt her decision, it was too late for it.

 

 

 

ARYA

 

"Look out!" She shouted and grinned instantly.

 

Edric Dayne turned to look for danger and lost sight of her for an instant; it was enough for Arya to corner him.

 

"Yield," she ordered with _Needle_ near his throat.

 

"I yield."

 

"You lost again."

 

"You keep cheating, Arya." It had taken the entire journey from the Hollow Hill to convince him to call her Arya and not _my Lady_.

 

She cocked her head to one side. "We already discussed the matter; that was not cheating. I'm simply better than you are," she said with a shrug. "You are still better than the rest."

 

Aside from following everyone who seemed slightly suspicious, she spent her time between sparring with the younger members of the Brotherhood who traveled with them, and trying to reach Rickon. Although she regularly failed to perform the last. Rickon preferred the company of Osha than hers or Jon's, and even when they spoke, it was difficult to understand him, since he mixed the Common and the Old Tounge.

 

"It is a real compliment coming from you," Edric commented with a smile.

 

"Yes, yes," she saw Rickon crossing the campsite with the wildling woman and Shaggydog, "whatever, I'll compliment you more tomorrow if you want."

 

She retrieved her belongings hastily and ran to catch her brother. She perceived someone trailing behind her.

 

"Do you need something, Dayne?" She spat without turning.

 

"I'm not _Lord_ Dayne," Gendry answered in a surly tone.

 

"My mistake, do you need something?" She had not stopped walking.

 

"I'd like to talk with you."

 

"I have something to do."

 

She felt his hand on her shoulder and rolled her eyes before facing him. She had to lift her face, for he was ridiculously tall. Arya was sure she had grown up since the last time she saw him, but it had not been enough to keep up with him; he was taller than Jon.

 

"What?"

 

"I don't know how to start," he hesitated.

 

"Then return when you know."

 

Her harsh response seemed to make him react.

 

"I was so glad when I saw you back at the Hollow Hill," he averted his eyes as he spoke; "I thought you lost."

 

 _Tell me what you want already._ She was going to miss Rickon.

 

"I'm here. Stop suffering." She patted his arm, prepared to leave already.

 

He held her hand and directed her an apologetic stare with his sad blue eyes. "I'm sorry."

 

"About what?"

 

"Back then, I abandoned you."

 

"That was years ago; I forgive you." She made a gesture to dismiss him.

 

He strengthened his grip on her wrist, and she was ready to kick him until he spoke again. "You trusted me, considered me family, and I betrayed you."

 

She sighed heavily, already feeling a bit of exasperation. She had felt anger towards Gendry for choosing to stay with the Brotherhood, for she had started to consider him a member of her pack. Nevertheless, that had been a long time ago; before the Red Wedding, before the House of Black and White, before seeing Jon. She didn't hold resentment against him.

 

"Stop apologizing," she insisted. "Besides, I got my family back, so you don't have to pity me."

 

His expression twisted, telling her she had said something bad, but he never voiced what it was.

 

"As milady commands." And he walked away.

 

She finally reached Rickon at the limits of the campsite. He was standing in the middle of the trees with his eyes closed, similarly to Cyara when she communicated with the raven.

 

"Rickon?" She called.

 

He turned. "Hi, Arya."

 

Shaggydog got near to her, and she couldn't help giving a step back; the black dire wolf had proven to be unpredictable.

 

Rickon said something she didn't understand.

 

"What?"

 

"He says you don't have to be afraid of his wolf."

 

"I am not scared." She wasn't scared of Rickon and Shaggydog, but she worried of how they might act from time to time.

 

They had spent too much time in Skagos, and what was worse, Rickon's judgment of right and wrong had developed there; he could get in trouble. She supposed that was how Jon felt about her as well.

 

"What were you doing?" She inquired.

 

"Listening to Bran," he said plainly.

 

"Wha- what do you mean?" She felt her heart racing.

 

He answered in the Old Tounge, again.

 

"Through the leaves," Osha translated when she saw her confused face.

 

"Is he telling the truth?" She asked the wildling woman.

 

"The little Lord insists he can hear his brother in the leaves, but I can't know whether he tells the truth or not. I'm not able to understand everything."

 

Arya controlled herself; she didn't want to harbor false hopes.

 

"What does he tell you, Rickon?"

 

"Things," Rickon shrugged his shoulders.

 

"And right now?"

 

"He wants to reach Lady Stark." Osha helped her again.

 

"Then you should tell Cyara," She suggested, although she wasn't sure what it might come from it.

 

Rickon nodded and called Shaggy.

 

They silently walked among the tents for a while.

 

"You are good," Rickon whispered.

 

"Excuse me?"

 

Rickon pointed to Needle. "Saw you fighting."

 

"Thank you. Perhaps you could show me your skills later."

 

"Don't have sword."

 

"We can have one made for you."

 

"You can?" His eyes oddly amused.

 

Arya nodded, and he smiled widely.

 

They finally found Cyara at Sam's tent; Jon's friend was examining her hurt arm.

 

"Will you have to cut it, Sam?" Cyara asked when she saw Rickon.

 

Rickon gaped at her in disbelief.

 

"N- n-, no," Sam blabbered. "It is healing just fine."

 

Cyara smiled. "I know, Sam, thank you." She turned to them. "Do you feel sick, Rickon?"

 

Rickon shook his head and spoke in the Old Tounge.

 

"You have a message for me?"

 

Cyara's face grew uneasy as Rickon explained himself. Since he knew Cyara would understand him, Rickon didn't bother to try speaking the Common Tounge.

 

 _I have to learn the Old Tounge._ She was tired of not understanding half of what Rickon said.

 

"I wonder what Jon wants to tell me," she muttered with an exhalation.

 

"Not Jon, Bran," Rickon corrected.

 

This time, Cyara went pale. "I see, I'll do what I can, thank you." She fastened her cloak around her shoulders. "I'll see you later, got something to do." She disappeared.

 

Arya would have to wait to ask Cyara about Bran.

 

"Actually," Sam ventured. "Jon has been looking for you."

 

"That is good. We can tell him about your sword, Rickon."

 

Jon received them with a faint smile when he saw them together.

 

"Can Osha stay?"

 

"I think this is supposed to be private little Lord. I'll wait for you outside."

 

Rickon obeyed with a pout.

 

"We should have talked days ago but I have been busy," Jon started, "and I wanted to discuss it together."

 

"Sansa is not here," she pointed out.

 

Rickon didn't seem to notice they had omitted Bran.

 

"I asked her by letter; she already told me her opinion."

 

"About what?"

 

Instead of answering, Jon stood and retrieved two long bundles from a trunk and set them on the table in front of Rickon and her. Arya recognized swords immediately. When she unwrapped the first, Arya identified Brienne's sword; the one she had used during the Kingslayer's trial. Rickon was captivated staring at the second sword, which was almost a perfect copy of the first, except for the length.

 

"Why do you have the sword of Brienne of Tarth?"

 

"It is not Brienne's sword; it is _Ice_. _Both_ are _Ice_ ," Jon corrected.

 

" _Ice_?" She grasped one of the sheaths with all her strength. "It was one sword," she wailed.

 

She knew she was about to cry; Rickon stared at her a bit confused, for he didn't understand her reaction.

 

"What happened to it?" She managed to utter.

 

"Tywin Lannister reforged it into two swords; gave one to Joffrey, and one to his son. Jaime Lannister gave his to Brienne of Tarth."

 

Her tears were falling freely at that point; she wished Tywin Lannister to be alive just to have the chance to kill him herself. He did not have the right to do that to her father's sword.

 

"Arya?" Rickon called her.

 

Arya covered her face, ashamed of weeping in front of Rickon; she had thought she would not cry again after the Twins. "I know it is stupid to cry over a sword, but..."

 

She remembered all the times her father had allowed her to sit with him to clean the broadsword; how he had explained the reason it was important for House Stark. And it didn't exist anymore.

 

Jon kneeled in front of her. "We can reforge it into one sword again. That is what I wanted to discuss with you."

 

Arya breathed and lifted her head. "What did Sansa told you?"

 

"She said she would never wield a sword, so she will agree with whatever we decide."

 

"What do you want?"

 

"Whatever you decide will be fine."

 

"Rickon?"

 

"Don't cry," was all he answered.

 

She smiled a little. "I guess is my choice then." She couldn't think clearly. "I need time to decide."

 

The rest of the day, she sat with Nymeria trying to make up her mind. Gendry told her the color would stay embedded in the steel no matter what they did.

 

"It won't be the same," she told Nymeria. The dire wolf didn't answer.

 

She understood her reaction had been a pathetic attempt to return things to their original state.

 

 _Nothing will be the same again._ Sansa was at the Vale; Bran was only the gods knew where; her parents and Robb were dead, and Ramsay Bolton had burnt Winterfell to the foundations. Fixing the sword wouldn't change anything.

 

"You are going to freeze here, little sister." Jon put a cloak over her shoulders before sitting beside her; he didn't say anything else.

 

"Rickon wants a sword," she commented.

 

"He told me already."

 

"He should have one of those you showed us today."

 

"Are you sure?"

 

"Just change the pommel and the hilt, please. We have had enough of lions for the rest of our lives."

 

"That is a wish easy to grant."

 

Four days later, when they made it to Cerwyn's Castle, Jon asked her and Rickon to have breakfast with him. He had an unusually satisfied smile on his face.

 

"You look pleased," she commented. "Let me guess, Cyara is carrying a wolf pup already," she teased.

 

She knew perfectly they were in the middle of a quarrel. And if she didn't know, Jon's face made it clear.

 

"No." It took him some time to recover his composure. "I have something for you."

 

"My sword?"Rickon's face lit up immediately.

 

"Your thirteenth and seventh name days are well passed, but _this_ can't wait half a year."

 

Rickon unwrapped his sword carefully, almost guardedly; he smiled widely.

 

"It is Shaggy." He caressed the wolf's head made of obsidian with a pair of emeralds as eyes.

 

Arya unwrapped her package to see the pommel of her new sword resembled Nymeria, gray stone with some yellow gemstone as eyes.

 

"Do you like them?"

 

Rickon was out of words, caressing the black sheath almost reverently.

 

"They look like Longclaw," she observed. Arya was stupidly pleased to have a sword that matched Jon's.

 

"I stole the idea from Jeor Mormont." Jon admitted, then moved to help Rickon unsheathe his. "The sword is not a toy," Jon had said the same thing to her when he gave her _Needle_. "You will have to learn with a tourney sword before being able to use this one."

 

Rickon nodded promptly.

 

"And I'll have to borrow it for the battle at the Wall. I will give it back, I promise." Jon had to add when Rickon frowned.

 

"You have to name your sword, Rickon," Arya suggested. "The greatest swords have names."

 

" _Skagos!_ " Her brother blurted immediately, prompting her and Jon to laugh.

 

_I should have expected that._

 

"Sounds like a good name for a sword," Jon said.

 

"I'll show Osha." Rickon darted out of the room.

 

Arya felt a pang of jealousy; Rickon invariably looked for Osha before her or Jon, however, at the same time, she was glad Rickon had had someone who cared for him during the harsh circumstances of the war. That he had not been alone, unlike her or Sansa.

 

"Be careful with that sword, Rickon!" She managed to shout.

 

"You have to choose a name as well." Jon reminded her.

 

She considered having a second _Needle_ , for Jon had given her the smaller, thinner sword, evidently thinking of her Water Dancing. Then she thought of Syrio and his lessons, and a smile made its way to her lips.

 

" _Fear_ ," she declared.

 

Jon laughed. "You are going to terrorize the Seven Kingdoms, little sister."

 

Jon mussed her hair, and Arya was glad to realize despite all the changes in her life, _that_ , at least, had remained the same.

 

 

 

JON

 

"Up, down, down, left, right, up, up, right."

 

Rickon managed to meet all of Arya's strokes, except for the last one; she had changed the last "right" for a "left" at the end. Jon found Arya's peculiar way of teaching sword fighting amusing. It made him wish he had met SyrioForel; Arya spoke high of the Braavosi.

 

"Liar!" Rickon protested.

 

"You were not seeing."

 

Rickon muttered something, tossed his training sword and left the yard of Castle Cerwyn, Shaggydog trailing behind him.

 

"Did I do something wrong?" Arya asked.

 

"I don't think your Water Dancing is for him."

 

Jon had observed his younger brother during the training; it was evident Rickon had more talent for the Westerosi fighting style.

 

Arya made a pout. "I thought we could spend time together if I taught him. Win his trust."

 

Jon snorted. "That will take more than sparring with swords."

 

"I don't know any other way."

 

The truth was they didn't know enough about Rickon.

 

"We will figure out a way. Meanwhile, I'll ask Harwin to train him."

 

As they returned inside the main building, Jon caught a glimpse of Cyara and Galbart Glover seeing the supplies loaded on the carts for the last part of the journey to Winterfell. He couldn't repress a grimace; they had not spoken in more than a fortnight.

 

 _How was I supposed to react?_ He still had not been able to come with an answer, and it became more difficult the more time it passed.

 

"What did you do to her?"

 

He tended to forget Arya could see people's thoughts, especially those they wanted to hide.

 

"Why do you think I did something to her?"

 

Arya raised a brow. "You have not spoken to each other since Moat Cailin, barely acknowledge each other's presence, and she has not been sleeping in your room or tent."

 

"Is it that evident?"

 

"It is always evident for me, although, after so much time, _anyone_ couldrealize."

 

"That is not good to hear, but I don't have the scantiest idea of how to fix our situation."

 

He was still shocked and, even more, confused. Of all the possible things in the world, Cyara harboring feelings for him was certainly the last; she had not even withstood his presence when they met. She was too practical for that, too focused on their objective. And then, how could he pretend to ask her to confirm her feelings if he wasn't sure of his own?

 

 "What did you do to her?" Arya insisted.

 

"Why do you think it I wronged her?"

 

"Am I mistaken?"

 

 _Damn it, Arya!_ Why couldn't she let things go? It was not something he wanted to divulge.

 

"It happened the day she arrived from White Harbor with Rickon," he started and tried to contain his embarrassment throughout the rest of his lame explanation.

 

"You are an idiot," Arya plainly declared when he finished.

 

"That helps a lot, Arya."

 

"Couldn't you think of a clumsier answer?"

 

Jon remained quiet as they made it to the third floor of the castle; he sat on the sill of a window which faced the godswood.

 

"I had no idea," he said at last.

 

_I know nothing._

 

Arya smacked him in the head. "She treats you _differently_ than the rest, Stupid!"

 

That he could recognize as true; he had always supposed it related to the Promised Prince's prophecy. Although, in retrospective, it explained her sporadic unusual behavior.

 

"You knew and didn't say a word."

 

"I don't want to meddle in your relationships." Arya sat in front of him and made a sharp face. "If I were you I would make amends quickly; Jonelle Cerwyn and Wynafryd Manderly are already staring at you like Nymeria looks a piece of meat."

 

That made Jon worry; he grasped well enough how things worked. The Lords and Ladies had to respect Cyara, but they didn't forget that their marriage had been Daenerys' doing and still considered it an insult to the North. So far, what had kept calm was the assumption that Jon had _wanted_ to marry Cyara instead of Arianne Martell. If they identified the slightest sign of conflict between them, only the gods knew what they would try; the Black Fish had told him which kind of suggestions Robb's vassals had made regarding Jeyne Westerling.

 

"What should I tell her? I don't even know whether I can return her feelings."

 

Arya gave some thought to her reply. "Love is Sansa's thing, not mine," she shrugged. "Perhaps telling her you are confused would be enough."

 

 _I better do this before the march for Winterfell._ Jon nodded while standing from his seat; that seemed to be the only plan he would get.

 

He had to ask a handful of servants to learn Cyara was in the Maester's room. He felt like an idiot for how nervous he was when he moved to cross the door.

 

Cyara was leaning on the table, her head resting on her arms; she startled a little at the sound of the door closing. Her eyes widened, but she said nothing when she saw him.

 

He had not planned what to tell her, so he blurted the first thing that came to his mind. "I would have liked to know you spoke the Old Tounge."

 

She focused her stare on the parchments in front of her. "Well, you never asked."

 

"You forbid me to ask, remember?"

 

"That became pointless after Syronno arrived, don't' you think?" She had not turned to him yet.

 

"I guess you are right," he conceded. "We need to talk about the other day," he managed at last.

 

Surprisingly, Cyara indicated him to seat next to her; it was not the answer he would have expected.

 

"So?"

 

"The way I reacted... I didn't mean to insult you."

 

"I was more ashamed than insulted." She ran her fingers through her hair rather uncomfortably. "It was my fault since I caught you off guard; I did tell you to forget it."

 

"I can't forget it."

 

Her stare shifted from him to the window and back again like a dozen times. "Then what do you want to do about it?"

 

 _I don't know._ There lied his predicament.

 

"What is it exactly that you feel?" He decided he needed some confirmation first.

 

She leaned back and rested her head on her hand. "You and your sister don't have a single drop of delicacy, did you know that?"

 

"A bit of honesty wouldn't hurt us."

 

Cyara ran her hands through her hair again; it appeared to have become a habit after she cut it.

 

"If you are asking whether I _love_ you, I don't know myself. At Moat Cailin I did what I felt like and regretted it instantly," she lifted her gaze to meet his. "How can I be sure when I barely had contact with another person during almost a decade?"

 

"I'm not more versed in the subject."

 

He had loved Ygritte, but both situations were hardly comparable.

 

"There are some things I'm certain about, though." Cyara didn't seem to be able to stop rubbing her hands restlessly; she took a deep breath before continuing. "I know I care for you beyond any prophecy. I know I have started to consider you, Arya and even Rickon my family. I know," she paused an instant, "I didn't want you to wed Arianne Martell. I know I fancy this life more than I acknowledge," she finished looking quite drained; she had faced him the whole time.

 

 _That was still pretty much a love declaration_. Jon was overwhelmed, but he had to give her an appropriate answer; she had done her best to convey how she felt.

 

"I can't assure you whether I can reciprocate your feelings. I had not considered the possibility."

 

She gave a light nod and turned to away again.

 

Jon felt the need to say something else. "I do care for you." Otherwise, he wouldn't have felt that dread when he read Ramsay's letter. "I need time to figure out." That was all he could offer for the time being.

 

There was an unusual calm right after. If she was disappointed, she didn't show it; he could even tell part of her apprehension had vanished.

 

She tapped her fingers on the table, breaking the silence. "May I ask you something?"

 

"Anything."

 

"Why did you assigned my tasks to others?"

 

"After Marwyn left, you looked overwhelmed with the workload." Jon didn't understand why she was asking such a thing. "I thought you considered most of them a bother."

 

"I'm a fool," she whispered almost inaudibly. "I thought you didn't want me to interfere in the North's businesses due to a lack of trust or something like that."

 

_Now that explains a couple of things._

 

"We should stop making one-sided assumptions," she declared with a heavy sigh.

 

He nodded in agreement. "It might be awkward in our current situation, but we should keep sharing a chamber."

 

That produced a reaction on her; she gave him a side look. "You want me to guard you against Lady Cerwyn and Lady Manderly, don't you?"

 

"Is it that noticeable?" Although it ashamed him, there was no use denying it.

 

She tried to hide a weak smile. "You can be so oblivious sometimes."

 

"It is also a way to keep you away from the Lords surveillance."

 

She nodded. "I'd like the rumors to end."

 

"Which rumors?"

 

"You know," she shrugged. "That Lord Stark does not want to share with Ramsay Snow."

 

He felt like an idiot for not considering something like that could happen. The story of how Ramsay had attacked Cyara's group had been circulating in the camp since Moat Cailin. Still, they were taking their gossip too far.

 

"Who said that?"

 

"I'm not sure; I heard it from a servant."

 

Jon frowned; whoever said that didn't have good intentions.

 

"I wonder where they got the idea he touched you."

 

She winced. "Maybe the Manderly's Maester told someone."

 

He froze. "Told what?"

 

"It was worse than this," she said, pointing to the now green bruise on her face.

 

"You mean..."

 

"No," she didn't let him finish. She stood from her seat and removed her surcoat.

 

She was working on the tunic's laces when he reacted. "What are you doing?"

 

"It will be easier if I show you."

 

She turned her back to him and lifted the hem of her shirt. Jon gasped when he saw her back; Ramsay had hit her half a dozen times, more likely with a stick.

 

"I guess is easy to misunderstand with these marks."

 

Cyara showed him a bite on her shoulder before putting the tunic on again; he felt sickened and angered all over again.

 

"Is that all?" He was able to ask, hoping his tone didn't sound rude; she had hidden the truth from him.

 

"It is; I swear."

 

Jon had to trust she was telling him everything this time.

 

"He will be punished." He had decided passing sentence upon him at Winterfell was the most accurate.

 

"I never doubted it," she answered softly.

 

 _It won't be sufficient,_ was written in her expression. It was not enough, not for her, him, Arya, Rickon or the rest of the North, but a _suitable_ punishment was inconceivable. If Jon had a little less restraint, he might have given Arya, free access to Ramsay's cell.

 

Jon didn't see Cyara again that day until late in the night; she entered the room somewhat distractedly.

 

"I thought you had changed your mind." He remained sitting on the bed, trying not to seem self-conscious.

 

"I had to retrieve something first." She showed him a small vial.

 

"What is that?"

 

"Sweetsleep." She put a drop from the vial in a cup with water and made a face before drinking the contents. "I have been having trouble sleeping."

 

Jon furrowed. "Is it Brynden again?"

 

She started to pull off her boots. "I wish my nightmares were because of Brynden," she commented nonchalantly.

 

 _Ramsay._ He was about to reach for her, but a knock on the door interrupted him. _What is it now?_ He hoped it was not the Greatjon with another plan to take Winterfell from Stannis by force.

 

"I have to attend."

 

"It can't be helped."

 

"What is it?" He asked the guard at the door.

 

"Lady Manderly." The guard announced and gave them some space.

 

"May I help you, my Lady?"

 

"Lord Stark, I was wondering if you could grant me a private audience," she asked as she shyly played with her long braid.

 

_This late?_

 

"I'm afraid we were getting ready to sleep."

 

"We?" Her cheeks blushed prettily. "I wasn't aware Lady Stark was with you."

 

 _No, you weren't._ He thought of the rumors.

 

"What can I do for you, Lady Manderly?" He asked again.

 

"I could return tomorrow."

 

"Considering the hour of your visit, it must be an urgent matter."

 

She hesitated. "My grandfather," she started. "I'm concerned about his safety."

 

He sighed. "Stannis Baratheon won't harm your Lord Grandfather; he is not that sort of man," he assured her. "He is proud, but not stupid; he knows that would not benefit him."

 

Jon just expected desperation had not driven Stannis to do something absurd.

 

"Thank you, Lord Stark. I'll trust your word." Lady Manderly retired.

 

 _Was that all?_ He felt annoyed when he remembered what Arya had told him earlier; even if he had distanced from Cyara, Wynafryd Manderly couldn't be expecting him to invite her to his bed.

 

He shut the door after ordering the guard not to disturb them again. Cyara was already asleep when he made it to the bed.

 

 _She could have said something._ Jon had expected a complaint from Cyara, at least, about the hour of the visit; despite their talk, he wondered if she even cared. Ygritte would have threatened WynafrydManderly if she had been there, but Cyara was the kind of person who tried to avoid conflicts at any cost.

 

Jon decided not to ponder over the subject but found it difficult to sleep; he was suddenly too aware of Cyara's closeness, even when it had been so natural before. As he lied on the bed, he kept stealing glances at her, somewhat convinced that she was somehow testing him.

 

That sensation stayed even as they made their way to Winterfell, for Cyara kept treating him like she had always done since they married.

 

 _What am I expecting?_ She was not going to ask for his answer at every chance. _I am the one being unreasonable._

 

An angry shout returned him to reality; it had been the Greatjon who rode at the vanguard.

 

"We are going to crush them!" The man roared again.

 

He urged his horse to reach his vassal and saw the cause of the ruckus. There was a small group of soldiers carrying Stannis's banner waiting at the gates of Winterfell.

 

"That false King dares to defy the rightful heir of Winterfell." Jon Umber informed him.

 

_Rickon is the rightful heir of Winterfell._

 

"He is not." Jon tried to calm down the man. "He would have kept his forces inside of the castle if that was the case. I will send a messenger."

 

Jon Umber kept protesting while the lad returned.

 

"Lord Stannis says he will open the gates of the castle, but milord has to speak with him first."

 

It was good to know Stannis would not oppose him.

 

"The procession will stay here until I say otherwise," he ordered.

 

"It must be a trap Lord Stark." Galbart Glover had joined them.

 

"If I don't return by nightfall, you can launch an attack to take Winterfell."

 

Jon didn't allow further protests.

 

Stannis was at the head of the group they had visualized from the distance; he looked as if he had aged twenty years since Jon last saw him. Stannis rode to meet him, and Jon could see him already grinding his teeth.

 

"Am I supposed to call you Your Grace?" He asked stiffly.

 

"That is not necessary." It wouldn't matter; Stannis's gaze still shouted _bastard_.  "What do you need from me, my Lord?"

 

"I'm going to surrender and hand in Winterfell along with its people," he said, jaw tensed.

 

"I'm glad to hear that; enough blood has been spilled here."

 

"I expect my blood to be the last."

 

_What?_

 

"I don't understand."

 

Stannis's eyes flashed with anger. "I am no fool," he declared. "I know the Dragon Queen and your half-brother want my head for the Rebellion."

 

Jon nodded; that had indeed caused conflicts between him and Aegon.

 

"I only ask that my family and supporters remain unharmed."

 

"You won't have to worry about them."

 

Stannis turned to order to open the gates of Winterfell and send a messenger to inform the procession could advance.

 

"Then there's nothing left to say."

 

"I guess so."

 

There was a lot he still had to discuss with Stannis, but he would have time for that later; first, he had to deal with the Lords.

 

Jon didn't cross the gates of Winterfell immediately, for he wanted to wait for Arya and Rickon to do so. During an indeterminable amount of time, he stared at the gates and the walls from the outside; that place had been his home most of his life, yet he felt as if he was seeing it for the first time.

 

"It doesn't look like I remember," Arya told him when she and Rickon reached him at the South Gate.

 

She suddenly looked as young as the girl she had been when he gave her _Needle_ , not the one who made the journey from King's Landing with him. Rickon, meanwhile, looked scared; perhaps he remembered the day Ramsay sacked the castle.

 

"I feel the same way," Jon gave her a faint smile.

 

Arya breathed deeply. "We can't stay outside forever," she said before urging her horse forward.

 

 _You are too brave, little sister._ Had he been alone, he would not have set feet on the castle.

 

Winterfell was broken and mended; the stables were new, and some things didn't exist anymore, like the Glass Gardens or Catelyn Stark's Sept. The buildings were so full of strangers, wary of the newcomers that Jon felt like an intruder.

 

 _Now or then, I'm still an intruder,_ he thought as he smiled to himself. His eyes stopped at a spot in the yard; it was the place where he last had seen Robb. _Intruder or not, I'll do what it takes to preserve Winterfell,_ he promised to his late brother.

 

"I'd like to go to the godswood," Arya told him once they had dismounted.

 

Jon looked around; the northerners were staring at him expectantly.

 

"You and Rickon go ahead. I must attend the Lords," he whispered.

 

"I could go with you."

 

"I'll be fine."

 

He ordered Balaq's men to escort Stannis and his subordinates to the Guest House and to guard Ramsay at the dungeons, before summoning all the northerners to the Great Hall.

 

He hesitated before entering, for he knew everyone inside the Hall would try to tear him to pieces once he spoke of his plans. At King's Landing, he had seen how far the Lords ambitions could go; if the northerners considered Jon didn't meet their purposes they would get rid of him. He prayed that all he had learned from Ned Stark, Jeor Mormont, and Maester Aemon would be enough to do what he had to do.

 

"You look pale." Cyara was right behind him; it was the first thing she had told him since they parted from Cerwyn's Castle.

 

"I rather face White Walkers than these gatherings," he admitted.

 

"You don't know what you are saying," she replied with a serious face.

 

"It was an expression," he paused. "Are you going to attend?"

 

"Do you want me to enter?"

 

"I could use some help in there."

 

"Then I will."

 

The first thing that called his attention was the disposition of the seats, and how close Wyman Manderly and his granddaughter had sat from the head of the table. The Umbers and JonelleCerwyn didn't seem to like it either. Howland Reed gave him a meaningful look; he saw, the frictions between the Lords as clearly as he did.

 

"My wife usually sits to my right, Lord Manderly." He decided he had to be determined even with the smallest things if he wanted to keep the Lords under control.

 

The Lord of White Harbor flushed from the forehead to the jowls. "I didn't think the Lady Stark would join us today."

_I wonder why._ That had only confirmed him Wynafryd's intentions for the previous night.

 

In the end, Galbart Glover ceded his seat at Jon's left to Cyara, while the servants distributed the wine, bread, and salt.

 

"I'd like to start hearing what happened during the battle for the castle." Jon felt Barbrey Dustin's intense stare upon him as he spoke.

 

That produced the start of a heated discussion between the Lords. Some shouted curses to the Bolton's; others demanded Stannis's head for keeping them as hostages or even vociferated against Daenerys; the rest insulted each other. He had to use Ghost to stop an Umber from striking Harrion Karstark after accusing him of treason. Despite their roars, the Umbers, the mountain clans, and the rest were not the ones who worried him; it was the Ryswell's  silence which unnerved him.

 

He felt Cyara's hand upon his and turned to see her.

 

"Are you going to pass sentence upon every prisoner yourself?" She asked in a whisper.

 

Between the shouts, he had learned the dungeons were full of prisoners.

 

"Why?"

 

"There must be a hundred of them. I know it isn't supposed to be easy, but it should not be that hard either."

 

"I might hang the minor ones." He had to agree with her.

 

She just nodded.

 

"Can we be sure Roose Bolton is dead?" She questioned the Lords as she retrieved her hand from his.

 

"That was what the Stag King said," answered the leader of the Wulls, and the others fell silent.

 

"The same was said of Ramsay Snow," interceded Harrion Karstark, starting another round of shouts. "He caused a lot of trouble for a dead man; ask Lady Stark."

 

Cyara shot Harrion a killing stare; he just looked away.

 

"If Roose Bolton is still alive, we'll take care of him. For the time being, I'll pass sentence upon the prisoners on the morrow," Jon hoped to finish the reunion; he had learned most of what he wanted to hear.

 

"I suppose you will also sentence the wildling, and the Ironborn that Stannis Baratheon keeps with him." Those were the first words Lady Dustin directed to him.

 

 _Does she want to cause trouble?_ Mance, Theon, and Asha Greyjoy were delicate topics which he had expected to discuss later.

 

"The wildlings keep traveling south," Mors Umber complained. "Killing their King could teach them a lesson."

 

"They will keep getting south because they want to get as far away from danger as they can," Cyara answered the man. "Mance Rayder's death would not stop them."

 

"But keeping him alive would help us to maintain them under control." Jon completed.

 

"We should exterminate them," a member of the clan's demanded.

 

"We need their help as well as Stannis's to face what is coming." Jon tried to reason with them.

 

"The White Walkers are not a real threat," said Lady Dustin. "The wildlings are, the Ironborn are."

 

"You will see how real they are when the time comes, Lady Dustin," Cyara's tone had grown serious.

 

"I know it sounds unbelievable, but it is true, and the Night's Watch doesn't stand a chance. We have to cooperate, even with the Free Folk."

 

"Can you guarantee Mance Rayder will behave?"

 

 _He wants his people to be safe._ But that was not what the Lords wanted to hear; they didn't consider the Free Folk as equals.

 

"His son is my hostage." It was not in Jon's plans to hurt Aemon, but that would calm the Lords a little; some of them had changed their expression.

 

"What happens with the Turncloak and his sister?" Insisted Lady Dustin.

 

"I will keep them alive." He was not ready to deal with Theon.

 

"They sacked Winterfell and betrayed the King!" The Greatjon started.

 

"Ramsay Snow _sacked_ Winterfell," he said calmly. "And yes, Theon betrayed Robb." Jon would never forget that. "That won't change even if I kill him, but we could save some innocents if we keep them alive."

 

Jon knew Robett Glover's children were hosts at the Iron Islands, so he secured his support with that promise. Although that would have to wait until Daenerys decided to put order there; she couldn't be expecting him to take care of that as well.

 

"Do we have supplies to face a war on that scale?" Lady Cerwyn was unsure.

 

"We will provide the supplies, not only for the War but to rebuild the North," Cyara answered her confidently.

 

Everyone stared at them skeptically; Lords never granted favors for free. Jon would not do it under normal circumstances.

 

"There is much we have to plan and rebuild, for now, go and get some rest, my Lords. Tomorrow will be a tiring day."

 

He observed the Lords leave and wished he could trust all of them; he would have to wait to know for sure. Cyara was also observing them, arms crossed.

 

"What do you think?"

 

"They consider us insane."

 

Cyara had never taken that lightly, and he understood it; she had spent half of her life gathering information, and people refused to pay attention to it.

 

"You didn't like Lady Dustin." Jon had not liked her either.

 

"She doesn't _like_ me; _they_ don't _like_ me." More than angry or offended, she looked resigned to deal with them.

 

"They are traditional, and the Starks had almost always married within the North."

 

"I'm not complaining, just stating something," she made a long pause. "Will you meet with Stannis and Mance?"

 

"Not before tomorrow. I must see Rickon." The thought of his little brother discouraged him. "I think he hates us," he blurted. It wasn't something he had said Arya; in front of his little sister he had to be optimistic about the subject."

 

Cyara moved to face him. "Why do you think he _hates_ you?"

 

"He prefers Osha and the Free Folk's company than us; he is mostly silent every time we are with him and seems uncomfortable. Maybe he feels we abandoned him back them."

 

_I left them for the Watch._

 

He saw Cyara's face and knew exactly what she would say next.

 

"Don be foolish, Snow. Rickon would have already set his dire wolf on you if that were the case."

 

"He needs time," Jon said what he and Arya had been repeating to themselves.

 

 _How much?_ Jon could be dead by the time that happened.

 

"I have a simpler explanation: He does not understand half of what you say."

 

 _Idiot, no doubt he feels isolated._ He and Arya had been complaining about how they could not understand when Rickon spoke, never considering it was the same for their brother, and Osha was not always there to translate.

 

"I could teach you," she offered, "if you want," she added.

 

He hesitated an instant. "I would appreciate that."

 

"Then, I'll meet you later." She stood up. "I need to get this thing removed," she lifted the plaster in her arm, "it itches."

 

 _'She treats you differently than the rest,'_ Arya had told him.

 

Jon did have the certainty that she would not have made such offer to anyone else, to go out of her way for his sake. That recognition settled down on his mind as the day progressed and became troublesome when she sat down with him to teach him the Old Tounge.

 

He was aware of the smallest of her actions and even found himself able to predict them. When he entered their chamber, for example, he knew she would not raise her stare from whatever she was reading, would wait for him to take a seat before starting to speak and would let her tea cool down before giving the first sip. Jon knew she would frown if he mentioned Barbrey Dustin; grimace if he said Sam's name, and smirk if he were to mention something Rickon did. He knew she would realize he was not listening but would not get angry because she would think it was because of the executions. Jon gave her the reason when she asked, even though he had been the one asking for honesty.

 

For some reason he dreaded her reaction if he were to tell the truth; he dreaded it enough to forget his worry about the next day until it was too late.

 

When he realized, he was already pronouncing his speech. "In the name of Robb Stark, King in the North," he started, regardless of the men of the Golden Company. He was not doing justice for Daenerys who didn't care; it was for Robb, for Bran, for Ned Stark, for Lady Catelyn and all of the people of the North. "I, Jon Stark," the name had become easier to pronounce, "Lord of Winterfell, sentence you to die," he declared to dozens of prisoners.

 

Winterfell's yard trembled because of the roars of the attendants as the lower rate criminals started to hang from the walls. Meanwhile, all Jon could think about was he had to burn the corpses as soon as possible.

 

Jon didn't show more interest in the sentences he executed personally. He heard those men's last words before ending their lives and discovered himself expecting for the last of them to face _Longclaw_. He strengthened the grip of his sword at the sight of Ramsay in front of the wooden block.

 

"Do you have last words?" Jon asked.

 

Ramsay directed him one last look, one full of hate. "You are a bastard and will always be. They need you, but you will never stop being a bastard in their eyes."

 

 _'Never forget what you are.'_ He didn't need Ramsay to tell him that.

 

Jon swung his sword, and Ramsay's head fell.

 

Two separate emotions invaded him almost simultaneously. The first was an immense satisfaction at the sight of Ramsay's spilled blood; the second was self-disgust for his first reaction. How could he dare to preach Arya about her killings if he had felt better after killing Ramsay? He had not even allowed her and Rickon to watch.

 

Jon felt his hands trembling and looked around hoping no one had noticed while trying to compose himself. He ordered to dispose of the bodies then everything but ran to the godswood.

 

He sat under the Heart tree, to clean _Longclaw_ like his father had cleaned _Ice_. He remained there during hours once he finished, holding his head between his hands, trying to control his thoughts.

 

The sound of someone approaching made him lift his head to find Cyara. She sat next to him, fixing her stare in the pond.

 

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

 

Jon remained silent.

 

She sighed. "It might not justify taking a life, but he was dangerous."

 

Jon shook his head. "It is the opposite," he muttered, "I was glad, even happy to behead him. It was incredibly easy, and it shouldn't be like that."

 

"Feeling that way does not make you a bad person, Jon."

 

"Don't talk about what you don't understand!" He shouted and clenched his fists to control himself before regarding her. "I didn't mean to yell at you, but I need-"

 

"I wish I could kill Ezio," she interrupted him, holding his gaze. "At least, Ramsay was not your kin."

 

"I'm sorry." He had forgotten.

 

"We are both awful persons," she said with a smirk.

 

 _Maybe,_ he thought, surprised at how quickly her words had calmed him down.

 

"Now, if you had stopped suffering, I will go to look for someone to bother."

 

What he did next surprised even himself: Driven by an unknown impulse, he cupped her jaw to drag her close enough to kiss her. It was not like the kiss he had given Arianne, definitely not intense, but comforting and familiar.

 

When he retreated, Cyara lowered her eyes and covered her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to hide her shock.

 

"Why did you do that?"

 

"I wanted to do it."

 

He then wondered whether he had been wanting to do it since before but had repressed himself until she told him how she felt and because of their circumstances. It was pretty much like with Winterfell; something he wished for but hadn't allowed himself to consider. Perhaps he should have noticed when Cyara's _don't be foolish_ started to replace Ygritte's _you know nothing_ in his head. 

 

"You said you had to figure out."

 

"I have." She had been in his mind a good amount of time during the last two days.

 

"In two days?" Cyara asked skeptically. "Don't make fun of me." She stood to leave.

 

"I'm not. I think it has been like that for some time, but I had not realized," he finally acknowledged aloud.

 

She dropped beside him again. "So what now?" Her tone was doubtful.

 

"I don't know. We could stay here until we decide." For the time being it sufficed him they had made things clear.

 

They didn't touch or even stared at each other while they remained there, for neither was sure of how to act. Something was for certain: just like Winterfell and the North, they would have to adapt.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would really really appreciate you to provide feedback on this chapter. I need to know I'm not going in the wrong direction regarding love.  
> Next time will also be an update for the dragon in the wall; it has to be that way, but I have important things planned for Promise me after that.  
> I will delete my note about the updates before posting the next chapters so be careful with the chapter numeration.
> 
> Next chapter: "OATHBREAKER"


	30. Oathbreaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could write faster...  
> Anyway, I have reached the half of the story (in terms of chapters), so I hope it has been interesting so far.  
> For this chapter, you need to know I wrote the phrases spoken in the Old Tounge in bold letters. 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

DAENERYS

 

The visit of Archimaester Marwyn had been by far the most exciting part of her day. She had received enough training for hearing grievances and solving problems from the common folk at Meeren, but nothing had prepared her for the tedium of the court; she had had enough of Margaery and her Ladies and their pointless reunions to hear music, practice stitches, share gossip, and drink tea. Her place was with the Council, discussing Aegon's progress in the Riverlands and the Western Lands and the situation in the Storm Lands. However, there, she was more usurper than Queen, taking her nephew's place.

 

She massaged her temples before ordering Ser Barristan to bring the Archmaester to her presence; in his message, he had insisted that no one was supposed to know about his presence in King's Landing.

 

 _Varys will find out as he always does._ And he would tell Connington if he thought it appropriate.

 

"Your Grace," the Archimaester greeted her with a bow. "It is my honor to meet the Dragon Queen."

 

 _Only until Aegon finishes his tour._ She had convinced herself Aegon would ask her to step aside once he returned from the Western Lands; _that_ was what everyone wanted.

 

"Be welcome, Archmaester, how can I help you?"

 

"In reality, I came to give you a warning, my Queen."

 

 _A warning,_ she thought with a deep frown; she got a headache immediately.

 

"What is it?"

 

"Your Graces should be careful with the Citadel, for they don't like the Targaryens having the control over the Realm."

 

"They wouldn't be the only ones, but that is something every ruler has to deal with." She wasn't going to throw a tantrum because of it.

 

The man face grew grave. "This is not something to take lightly, my Queen." He looked around. "I already warned your nephews; the Citadel is looking for a way to kill your dragons," he whispered.

 

 _So he visited Aegon and Jon first._ She couldn't decide whether that was suspicious or not.

 

"My nephews could have told me personally."

 

"It was a risk, considering Engel is a member of the Citadel."

 

"As you are," she pointed.

 

"That is true, but I'm not like them."

 

 _Let's assume I believe you._ She had to make him tell her more.

 

"It is almost impossible to kill a dragon."

 

 _But there are ways;_ her brother's voice reminded her.

 

"They know how." The man fixed his stare on her. "I was supposed to reach you at the Slavers Bay, to guide you and protect you on your trip to Westeros, but the Citadel stopped me, for they didn't want anyone to support you."

 

She knew people dreaded her children and, sometimes, she was scared of them too. She couldn't blame anyone for wishing the dragons had not returned to Westeros.

 

"And _you_ will support me."

 

The Archmaester expression told her she was quite mistaken.

 

"The dragons returned to the world for a reason, and that is not to support your claim for the Iron Throne," he said with a harsh look on his face. "The Citadel wouldn’t worry so much about the dragons if they were where there are supposed to be."

 

_Dead, surely._

 

"I know I have to send them to the Wall." She had made that deal with Jon.

 

 _At least Rhaegal._ That was the one Jon could control.

 

"Still, they remain locked up in the Dragonpit."

 

"It is meant as a precaution."

 

"The whole Realm might suffer because of your cautiousness, my Queen."

 

"If you came here to convince me to send my dragons to the North, you are wasting your time. I will send them when the time is right," she watched him severely. "Even I have trouble to control them," she had to admit. "I will not set them free until there is no other choice."

 

"What if you could control them better, my Queen?"

 

"That would be certainly fortunate for everyone." She became more wary of the man due to that comment. "Do you know something I don't?"

 

"I have sailed through the Smoking Sea and visited Asshai." This time, he half smiled. "I know things most people don't."

 

_It is not the first time I hear something like that._

 

The Queen leaned forward. "I'd like to listen to your knowledge."

 

In the next hours, she learned more about history than actual dragon behavior, there was not much the Archmaester could tell her from his books that she did not already know from observing her children. Ultimately, the Archmaester's goal was to convince her to send her children to the Wall as soon as possible; she suspected the man had hidden reasons to insist on that matter.

 

"I thank you for your concern, Archmaester and swear I'll do what is in my hands to support the battle at the Wall. However, just now, I can't send the dragons." The Queen paused and breathed. "Aegon and I can't travel to the Wall at the moment, especially with the Citadel's threat, and Jon only shares a bond with Rhaegal."

 

"That might not be a problem if he uses the Magic Horn."

 

 _Does he know how it works?_ The item could be mortal if not.

 

"Unfortunately, Drogon is the only one who answer to the horn and only when I blow it," she lied; Rhaegal and Viserion submitted to it when Jon and Aegon weren't close.

 

"I see, that is a shame." The man exhaled heavily. "You must be thinking I wasn't of much use, my Queen."

 

"Not at all, you have warned us about the Citadel. I am grateful for that."

 

"Then I guess it is time for me to catch your nephew at the Wall."

 

"I will provide you an escort."

 

"I would prefer to leave as silently as I arrived."

 

"You can't be planning to travel alone."

 

 _You couldn't have gotten to King's Landing on your own,_ was what the Queen truly thought.

 

"Your nephew was kind enough to provide me with guides; they will take me back."

 

"In that case, is there anything else we can do for you?"

 

"I'd like to see the dragons." He smiled. "It might be my only chance."

 

"I'll take you to the Dragonpit," Dany acceded after a short hesitation.

 

The Archmaester's eyes shone after he peeked through the heavy doors which kept her dragons under confinement.

 

"Fire made flesh," he told her with an unusual big smile. "I'm eager to see them in action."

 

"You will get your chance, Archmaester."

 

"I hope so." He nodded. "I shall get going, my Queen."

 

"Of course."

 

"I might not have the honor to see you again, Dragon Queen, but I have no doubt that your rule will be worth of the history books."

 

"Thank you, Archmaester."

 

The man covered his face and left.

 

"Strange man," commented Ser Barristan.

 

"Indeed. I thought he would ask for something else."

 

"So did I, my Queen."

 

"Perhaps he just didn't want to miss the opportunity to see the dragons."

 

"Are you planning to tell that to the Lord Hand, my Queen?"

 

Dany smiled at Ser Barristan before taking his arm. "Varys will take care of informing Connington."

 

"I have always wondered whose side that Spider is on."

 

 _He vouches for the Realm._ That was what Varys said.

 

"Who knows?" Dany stared at the sky. "Come, my friend, I want to get to the Keep in time for dinner."

 

She was staring through her window after dismissing Missandei and Ser Barristan after her meal when she suddenly felt a hand covering her mouth.

 

"My Queen is distracted."

 

She turned and shoved Daario off her. "You are disrespectful, captain. You should take care of me, not scare me."

 

"I take care of my Queen's needs."

 

"And that would be?" She asked despite already knowing the answer.

 

There was a spark in Daario's eyes.  "The Queen has not been fucked properly since last night."

 

Dany couldn't help her laugh; Daario didn't care for politics or courtesies, so he always helped her relax at the end of the day.

 

"You are not acting efficiently, captain."

 

"My apologies, my Queen." He lifted her easily to take her out of her solar.

 

Dany laughed the entire journey to the bed as Daario ran his hands through her body.

 

She had tried to resist Daario after her coronation, for she didn't want rumors about the immoral behavior of the Queen running around the Keep. Still, as she immersed more and more in her role as queen, she found in her lover the only escape from the ungrateful life at court. Aegon was her heir and would be a father soon, so she arrived at the conclusion that there was no point in keeping appearances; she could allow herself to have Daario.

 

Daario threw her on the bed and started to discard his clothes while Dany accommodated herself. When Daario moved forward to cover her body with his, she felt the air escaping from her lungs; she pushed him away.

 

"That man!" She shouted.

 

"Daenerys?"

 

She massaged her temples. " _Dragonbinder_ is not here." She signaled the empty pedestal.

 

"Was it the man from today?" His expression had changed.

 

"He just wanted access to the Horn."

 

 _How did he get it out of here?_ And more importantly, what was his objective?

 

Daario frowned. "I'll send Storm Crows to search the city."

 

"We need to send guards to the Dragonpit as well."

 

Daario darted out of her chamber as soon as he dressed. Dany dropped on the bed. The man couldn't use _Dragonbinder_ , although, someone else could. Jon couldn't have possibly sent the man to steal the Dragon horn.

 

She tried her best not to ponder over it, but a thought kept nagging in her head: _Jon broke our deal._

 

 

 

AEGON

 

His trip to Riverrun had not gone the way he had expected. First of all, without the northerners to pull them forward, the advance of the column had been terribly slow. Then, the River Lords had not been very pleased to receive Aegon. Some had acknowledged him for his justice impartation at the Twins, yes, but they had not liked that he had left the castle under the care of one of the captains of the Golden Company.

 

 _They better get used to it._ The castle would more likely stay under the rule of one of the higher ranks of the Company. _There's no way I can please them all._ Aegon had to remind himself every so often.

 

Still, he had tried to learn more about the needs of the inhabitants of the Riverlands, spending as much time as possible with the severe Black Fish. Although the man seemed to distrust everyone, he always answered Aegon's inquiries.

 

There was, though, one thing Aegon couldn't stand about him: He kept demanding Jaime Lannister's head, even after they arrived at Riverrrun and discovered Emmon Frey and Genna Lannister had fled to Casterly Rock.

 

On his last day at the Tully's castle, as he stared at the snow-covered Land's from late Hoster Tully's balcony, Aegon pondered whether his denial was a sign of strength or weakness.

 

 _I wish you were here, Jon._ He felt stronger when his brother accompanied him. However, his brother was miles away, solving more important stuff; the last notice he had had from him, was that Stannis Baratheon had returned Winterfell without a fight. Besides, Aegon knew what would be Jon's answer. _If Jaime Lannister had to die, he should have died at King's Landing._

 

"I have been wondering what entrances you so much about the frigging landscape, Aegon." Duck broke the silence behind him.

 

Aegon had to laugh. "Nothing at all, it helps me to think."

 

Duck shook his head; he considered Aegon worried too much.

 

 _We are no longer at the Shy Maid._ He missed those carefree days too, but they were gone. That was the price of the Iron Throne.

 

"Do you have something for me?"

 

"A letter from your wife arrived." Duck gave him the parchment.

 

Aegon broke the golden seal with a smile on his face. Margaery's reports about the state of her pregnancy were a welcomed change from Connington's informs about the Council, the Capital, and Daenerys.

 

"Margaery says she felt the baby moving for the first time!" Aegon told Duck.

 

"Great." Duck declared emotionlessly.

 

"Come on, Duck. You are supposed to be happy for me."

 

Duck gave him a pointed look. "Why would I? Once the child is born, I'll have to look after two toddlers."

 

Aegon couldn't contain his laugh, and Duck laughed with him. Right then, he wasn't the Crown Prince, just Aegon.

 

The Prince had to return in the morning, though.

 

"Is everything settled?"

 

"It is, Your Grace," answered Strickland obediently.

 

He had been incredibly compliant after Jon caught him and some of his men harassing the people at King's Landing. The man knew he was one step away from losing his reward if he didn't behave.

 

Aegon assented. That would be by far the most difficult part of his journey, and having Jamie Lannister as hostage didn't guarantee anything. Just as Brynden Tully liked to remind him.

 

"I wish you a safe trip, Your Grace." The Black Fish said with cold courtesy.

 

"I'll see your nephew and his family return safely to Riverrrun," he promised.

 

Brynden Tully gave him a long stare. "There are times when kings have to be heartless."

 

_I can't give you what you want, or the Realm will go to war again._

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"My grandnephew didn't come to understand that."

 

 _Oh._ It surprised him how many lessons he could receive from someone he would never meet.

 

"I will not waste your wisdom, my Lord."

 

"I don't know what you are talking about."

 

The Journey to Casterly Rock was ten times worse than the one to Riverrun. The snow had stopped for almost a week, but the muddy roads difficulted their advances, and the cold was unbearable. Aegon wondered how Jon managed to live at Winterfell; the weather had to be terrible there.

 

Varys had warned them about Lannister loyalists gathering in the Western Lands, but they found no resistance after they crossed the limit of the Riverlands. Aegon tried to extract an explanation from Jaime Lannister, but he just said that whatever his aunt had ordered to do was unrelated to him.

 

 _Would this be an occasion to act ruthlessly?_ He questioned himself, remembering Brynden Tully's words. In the end, he decided to wait until they reached Casterly Rock.

 

Aegon made a disgusted face when he was close enough to discern which banner waved over the castle's battlements. It was Tommen Baratheon's lion and stag banner.

 

He ordered the men to set the camp and prepare for a siege if necessary while he went to talk to Jaime Lannister.

 

 _Not good._ Aegon's hostage had his typical defying smile. Having survived to all those execution attempts, he might have lost the ability to fear for his life.

 

Aegon thought of all the possible courses of action. He considered what Jon, Dany, Connington, and even Brynden Tully would have done under his circumstances, yet all he got was a headache.

 

 _I have to decide by myself._ At least, that way, he would know it had been his doing.

 

"I know why you are here, _Your Grace._ " the Kingslayer had always managed to make the title sound like a curse. There was no doubt he despised Targaryens with all his might. "I did warn you about my aunt's temperament."

 

"And I appreciate that, _Ser_." Aegon couldn't refrain himself from using the same tone Jaime Lannister had used to pronounce the last word. "I came here to request your help."

 

The Kingslayer's smile vanished. Aegon tried to maintain an unreadable expression, the way Jon did.

 

"Would you be kind enough to negotiate with Lady Genna the submission of the castle? Tell her I want a peaceful agreement." Aegon even smiled.

 

Jaime Lannister arched a brow, measuring him. "It will take time."

 

"Take your time, Ser. I'll make sure Lady Brienne remains as comfortable as possible during your absence."

 

The Kingslayer's expression darkened. "Thank you, Your Grace," he said stiffly.

 

There was no need to say more; Jaime Lannister had received the message.

 

Strickland did have something to say when Aegon informed him of his decision.

 

"Excuse me, Prince Aegon, but you have committed a stupidity!"

 

"Calm down, Harry," Duck warned the captain.

 

"The Prince released his valuable hostage." Strickland was greeting his teeth so hard that Aegon feared they might fall from the man's mouth any moment. "I don't know what he is planning, but we can not siege this rock, not under this weather! Oh, and he sent our archers with his little brother! We hold no chance!" The captain kept complaining.

 

It sounded pretty bad when Aegon heard it that way, yet there was nothing much he could do right then.

 

"I still have a hostage."

 

"Crap! Crap is what you have, Your Grace!" Strickland went on. "If you think that Lannister shit will come back for his ugly cow, you are more of a green boy than I imagined."

 

"If I were you, I would stop speaking to the Prince like that," Duck warned Strickland, who gave a step back.

 

"You can leave now, Captain."

 

Strickland left muttering curses, more likely to write a complaint to Connington. It didn't matter; Connington was too far to interfere.

 

"Thank you, _Ser._ "

 

"It is my job to keep the pests away from you." Rolly didn't answer to his jest. Aegon understood his friend thought similarly to Strickland despite his silence.

 

"Trust me, Duck, I know what I'm doing." It was crazy, but he recognized Jaime Lannister cared for Lady Brienne.

 

"I am no one to judge your decisions, Aegon."

 

_If everyone thinks that way, how is a king supposed to know when he is making a mistake?_

 

Jaime Lannister sent a messenger at the hour of the wolf; Genna Lannister had agreed to meet Aegon at dawn in a middle point between the castle and his camp.

 

He took all the possible precautions before mounting his horse and ride to the meeting point

 

"You should have sent an emissary," Duck whispered beside him; he was too worried to keep himself quiet.

 

"Have some faith, my friend," Aegon insisted.

 

He was relieved to see the Lannister's did not outnumber them; in fact, the soldiers were no more than a small escort. Jaime Lannister and his aunt didn't seem pleased at all while Emmon Frey was completely pale.

 

"Lady Genna," he directed to the blonde, fat woman beside the Kingslayer, "it's good to know you acceded to dialogue. We shouldn't-"

 

"Stop your useless pleasantries, Dragon Prince," the woman replied aggressively. "You can have my coward nephew and useless wife, but I will not surrender to the murderers of women and children." Genna Lannister gave him a hateful stare.

 

Aegon frowned. How dared that woman to reproach him that when the whole Realm knew what Tywin Lannister had done to Rhaenys and his mother?

 

"I told you they got nothing to do with it," Jaime Lannister said tiredly.

 

"Shut up! If you wanted to defend the dragon scum, you could have made up a better story, Jaime."

 

Aegon supposed the story of how Jaime Lannister strangled his beloved twin was not credible at all.

 

Aegon's soldiers were starting to grow uneasy. He made a gesture to calm his men. "You can't win this fight, my Lady. However, if you decide to go on with this foolishness, my aunt, and the dragons will have to intervene." He wanted to avoid a fight, but he had already understood that the woman would not relent.

 

"I rather die than yield to the family of the Mad King."

 

"As you wish. I will get the castle and the Lord of Riverrun eventually." Aegon prepared to retreat.

 

"Edmure Tully you can have right now, Dragon Prince." The Lady made a terrible smile.

 

Aegon regarded the woman with a confused expression; given her hostility, he had not even asked about Edmure Tully. Jaime Lannister looked surprised, and Emmon Frey had started to shake.

 

"Emmon," the woman snapped, and her husband moved forward with a sack in hand. Genna Lannister took the item and tossed it to Aegon. "Your Lord of the River Lands, _Your Grace_."

 

It was heavy, and for a brief moment, he didn't realize what the sack contained, but when he did, his heartbeat raced. He felt dizzy and nauseous, although he couldn't discern whether it was because of the smell of the content of the sack or the repercussions it would have.

 

 _Too much for the peaceful negotiations._ Once he had overcome his shock, all he could feel was anger. _I gave them a chance._

 

"Arrest Genna Lannister and her husband," he ordered. "They defied the orders of Queen Daenerys regarding the Lord of Riverrun and Casterly Rock."

 

The Lannister soldiers unsheathed their swords immediately, and Aegon's men did the same.

 

"Order your men to step back, Ser."

 

"This was not part of the deal."

 

" _This_ wasn't part of the deal either." Aegon raised the sack, hoping his hand wasn't trembling. He felt utterly defeated.

 

Jaime Lannister unwillingly obeyed. His soldiers handed in Lady Genna and her husband in the middle of shouts and curses. They detained those who tried to oppose too.

 

"I'll send your wife to you once Roslin Tully and her child make it to my camp, Ser." Aegon made a signal to retreat.

 

"Tywin would roll over in his grave if he could see you now." Genna Lannister chided her nephew.

 

There was no verbal answer from Jaime Lannister, just a grimace.

 

"And I honestly hope you become able to control your men and the rest of your family better in the future, Ser," Aegon added.

 

Genna Lannister kept insulting him and her nephew all the way back to the campsite, but the only thing Aegon was concerned about was how he was going to inform Brynden Tully about the death of his nephew.

 

"What?" He could tell Duck had something to say.

 

"What are you going to do with the noisy one?"

 

Aegon spared a glance at Genna Lannister. "I have to think about it," he lied.

 

Aegon had a precise idea of what he had to do.

 

 

 

CYARA

 

 _These things hardly make any sense._ More than the log book, it was like a compilation of songs about the Long Night. Cyara tapped her fingers on the table as she tried to discern whether reading those things was a waste of time or not. She could ask Mance Rayder, although not before Jon spoke with him. _I wonder when that will be._

 

She observed the door; it was unlikely for Jon to return soon. Even if the burials didn't take that long, he would surely stay in the godswood until he felt more composed and ready to be in the presence of others.

 

Still, it wasn't long before he made his way into the chamber, his sight focused on the ground. His stare met hers for a second before dropping on a chair beside hers.

 

_Perhaps he thought I wouldn't be here._

 

She started to move silently to the door.

 

"You don't have to leave." His voice was nearly inaudible.

 

She stood where she was for a moment. It would be rude if she left and she wasn't sure of what to do if she stayed. Her first impulse was to get closer to him, but they had not been particularly intimate since he kissed her several days before.

 

 _Does he want to talk about it or not?_ She returned to her seat, decided to broach the subject, although not directly.

 

"Where are your siblings?"

 

Jon lifted his stare. "Arya disappeared; she will return when she feels like it. Rickon decided to stay in the crypts with Shaggy." He didn't allow her to ask why he was not with his siblings. "I'm tired."

 

"I wouldn't think less of you if said you are sad," she said, hesitantly placing her hand over his.

 

"I am not hiding how I feel." When she gave him a harsh stare, Jon turned his hand to take hers. "I'm truly just tired."

 

"I don't believe you."

 

"I have no reason to lie to you." Jon scoffed. "You already saw me crying," he said casually.

 

She stared at their joined hands; for some reason, _that_ motivated her to trust his word.

 

"You are right, nothing could be better to develop trust than such humiliation," she replied mockingly.

 

"Just don't tell my bannermen."

 

"That depends on how you treat me."

 

"I'll be careful." He leaned forward to examine the parchments over the table. "Have you found something yet?"

 

"Maybe. I'd like to ask Mance Rayder."

 

He released a heavy sigh, then went silent.

 

While Jon considered whatever he was thinking, Cyara noticed he had not freed her hand.

 

"The northerners didn't like the offer I made to Stannis," Jon finally said.

 

Cyara only nodded.

 

Objectively speaking, it had been an effective way to keep control over the Dreadfort. Jon had said Stannis was tough and honest; even if it hurt his pride to live as a vassal of Winterfell, he would be able to handle those lands. And he would remain loyal because Jon had not turned him over to Daenerys. However, the Northerners had taken it as an affront, especially those who considered they deserved those lands as a reward.

 

Jon didn't need to add that openly requesting for Mance's counsel would cause him more strain with his vassals.

 

"I could meet him in secret."

 

Jon shook his head. "You won't expose yourself."

 

Cyara understood. The rumors about her and Ramsay had not disappeared; perhaps they would never. Meeting Mance in private could become a new reason to discredit her.

 

 _One way or another, there will be difficulties._ She could have suggested using Rhaegal's threat to force them to respect his decisions, but that would have created a discussion among them.

 

"We are in time to run away to Essos." 

 

"We are," he replied with a barely noticeable wince.

 

"I was not seriously speaking."

 

"I know." He stared at her and strengthened his grip on her hand. "Give me a couple of days, the Lords will be more disposed to hear about the Free Folk after we distribute the supplies."

 

She nodded, for she knew pressing the northerners would not benefit their plans.

 

Jon honored his word three days later while the Lords made plans to restore their homes with the resources Syronno would send; some were even considering building greenhouses already.

 

The King beyond the Wall was in a chamber under the watch of Stannis Baratheon’s soldiers; that was the only way to keep him away from the northerners hate.

 

"Lord Crow," Mance Rayder said when he saw Jon.

 

"Mance."

 

"You finally abandoned those ridiculous vows," the man replied while directing a half smile to Jon.

 

Cyara didn't know what he had gone through while he was Ramsay's prisoner, but even if he looked physically exhausted, his eyes reflected a strange vitality.

 

"I didn't come to discuss my vows to the Night's Watch."

 

"I suppose you didn't come to introduce your wife to me either."

 

"You know why I came."

 

Mance's faint smile vanished. "It is too late for that, Crow." There was resentment in Mance's voice.

 

"We need to cooperate," Jon insisted.

 

"Things are not what they were back then." Mance made a gesture to silence Jon's protests. "My people is dead, just like your Crows and your Kneelers."

 

"We are still here."

 

"We are condemned." Mance Rayder narrowed his eyes. "Besides, how do you plan to make everyone work together?"

 

"You managed to join all the clans beyond the Wall."

 

Mance started to laugh. "It took me years to achieve that; there's not enough time left."

 

"We must try."

 

When Mance Rayder started to shake his head, Cyara decided to intrude. "You should think about your son."

 

Mance made a sinister expression. "I was wondering when you were going to use that threat."

 

"That was not what I meant," she corrected immediately.

 

Mance Rayder gave her a wary stare, but Jon understood what she had wanted to say.

 

"What is supposed to happen to your son if they cross the Wall?" Jon asked.

 

Mance lowered his stare and sighed. "I don't know whether the Free Folk will trust me again. I've been too much time among Kneelers."

 

"It would be worse not to do anything."

 

Mance Rayder gave a light nod, a frown on his forehead. "I assume you have a plan."

 

"We have dragonglass and the Queen promised to send the dragons to help."

 

"Dragons," Mance snorted. "Maybe we will manage."

 

Cyara felt relieved; Mance Rayder was still disposed to cooperate. There was no time to lose. "Where is the Horn of Winter?"

 

Mance looked surprised by her question. "I wouldn't have defiled all those tombs if I knew."

 

_That doesn't help._

 

"But seems like you have a better idea, Lady Stark."

 

"Well..." She showed him the parchments once Jon gave her an approving nod.

 

"I had heard fragments of these but never the whole thing."  He had raised a brow.

 

"What do you think?" She dared to ask.

 

 **"The Kings of Winter, guardians of the Horn…”** Mance intoned thoughtfully.  "I did try to get there before they captured me."

 

"Based on the fragment of a song?" She asked dubiously.

 

"Some songs are more reliable than history books written by old men with chains around their necks."

 

"So it is out of their reach." She needed to get that out of her mind.

 

"If it is not, there is not much we can do."

 

She could not disagree. There wasn’t anything left to say.

 

"You will have to stay with Stannis until I settle everything with the Lords." Jon hesitated a little. "I'll ask Gilly to bring Aemon to visit."

 

A genuine smile emerged on Mance's face. "Aemon," he pronounced his son's name almost proudly before regarding Jon again. "I heard you found your siblings."

 

"I did."

 

"That is good to hear, Crow." Mance pronounced the last word without resentment that time.

 

By the end of the day, already in bed, she asked Jon something that had been bothering her. "Will they follow him?"

 

"They will, Mance will convince them," he answered confidently.

_You trust him_. That was unexpected, considering he was wary of most of his bannermen.

 

"Do you want to search the crypts?"

 

"It would be a waste of time," she declared and turned to face Jon when she realized something. "You understood him."

 

Jon gave a solemn nod. "I've been studying."

 

"You still have a serious problem with the pronunciation." She had been teasing him for his incompetence at producing the harsh sounds of the Old Tounge.

 

"I'm trying my best," he said with a frown.

 

"Perhaps you should try Valyrian instead." She pressed on; those pointless conversations had become the highlight of her days among the northerners.

 

"So that the Lords can declare I'm more Targaryen than Stark? No thanks."

 

"They already think you part wildling," she pointed out.

 

He gave a small laugh. "That is because I have a soft spot for wildlings."

 

The way he told it reminded her of Ygritte, and even if she had only caught brief glimpses of her through Brynden, the thought upset her.

 

"I'm not a wildling.”

 

"I knew that from the beginning."

 

For the way Jon was staring at her, he might have guessed what she was thinking, which only made her feel embarrassed. She was already preparing to leave the bed, but the feel of his hand on her face distracted her.

 

"I liked your hair."

 

 _What?_ She felt like an idiot; Jon had no idea of what was going in her mind, which only confirmed their inability to understand the other.

 

"It will grow again," she said with a light shrug.

 

Jon moved his hand from her face to caress her hair before kissing her. Unlike the last time, she had been anticipating the kiss, so she closed her eyes and leaned into it. She yearned for the warm right after Jon separated from her, and answered with another kiss.

 

Apparently Jon had only been expecting for her encouragement because he promptly moved his hand to the small of her back to drag her body closer to his. She corresponded cupping his jaw and separating her lips to give him access to her mouth. Cyara became aware of the change in her breathing after they parted again.

 

It was the first time they went further than a kiss, but she didn't feel intimidated; she wanted Jon to continue touching her. Cyara fixed her stare on his, and perceived the hint of a smile; he had understood what  she wanted.

 

Cyara shut her eyes again, and then inhaled the scent of Jon's hair when he placed his mouth on her neck and slid his hand under her night shirt. He didn't get far before retreating.

 

His eyes seemed uncertain. “Are you a maiden?" He asked abruptly.

 

It took her a moment to be able to answer. "No," her confusion transformed into insecurity. "I didn’t think it would matter,” she added turning her back to him.

 

She felt him move behind her before placing a hand on her shoulder to make her face him. He had sat up against the headboard; she had to do the same so that their eyes remained at the same level. If they had not agreed to talk things face to face, she would have already burst outside the chamber.

 

"You have mistaken the purpose of my question." He declared in the solemn tone he used to speak with his vassals.

 

"Have I?"

 

Cyara couldn't grasp the reason the question had bothered her. It was not like she had wanted to hide it or felt ashamed because of it. Then again, things made little sense when it came to her feelings towards him.

 

"I was worried I might hurt you."

 

She nodded, ashamed of her distrust.

 

"Was it before or after we met?"

 

She gaped at him. Jon could be amazingly direct when he wanted to.

 

"Why would you want to know that?" She wasn't sure she wanted to hear about Ygritte or Arianne Martell.

 

"I didn't mean to offend you." That time, he did look ashamed. "I shouldn't have asked that."

 

It was not the first time she heard that apology coming from him. She wondered if they would be able to put an end to their misunderstandings eventually. She remained silent for a while, massaging her temples until she cleared her mind.

 

"You don't have to answer," he insisted.

 

"It's fine. You just took me off ward with the question." If that could pull them forward, it was worth trying. "Are you sure you want to know?"

 

"Only if you want to tell me."

 

"I think I was fourteen," she started. "I was camping close to a village, near the Antler River, that was where," she paused trying to remember _his_ name and failed, "we met."

 

"He stole you." Jon looked skeptical about the possibility.

 

"Not really, I didn't fight back." She lowered her stare to the covers. "I didn't want to fight back." It seemed silly after all those years. "I guess I needed to feel close to someone, but I still chose to keep following Brynden."

 

"Why?"

 

_I got fed up with him, and thought he would be a burden if the White Walkers ever attacked the place._

 

"I didn't like him enough." That was a kinder way to put it. "I didn't feel the way I feel about you," she whispered.

 

Jon had changed everything.

 

Jon took her hand beneath the covers after she fell silent. Cyara had not spared _him_ a thought in years, but she suddenly felt something close to nostalgia. She observed the flickering flame of the candle on the night table and found the colors incredibly beautiful.

 

 _Kissed by fire._ How was anyone supposed to compete against that? Perhaps what bothered her was the possibility if living under the shadow of someone else. That boy had meant nothing to her, but that was not the case between Jon and Ygritte. Cyara had lost count of all the times Jon had called Ygritte’s name while he was recovering from his fever.

 

"How was she like?" Cyara decided to ask finally.

 

She felt Jon strengthening the grip on her hand. When the silence stretched between them, she regretted the question.

 

"She was strong,” Jon said at last, “beautiful, smart, incredibly stubborn, and wild to the bone." Cyara knew he was smiling even without seeing his face. "She was wild above all."

 

She felt a stung of envy swelling in her chest, however, it was not as bad as she had expected.

 

"You do have a soft spot for wildlings." Her eyes had not strayed from the candle light.

 

"She gave me a taste of a life I never thought I could have."

 

"Why did you returned to the Night’s Watch?"

 

He gave a faltering sigh. "It was my duty to return."

 

_What about your duty now?_

 

Cyara felt the need to pull her hand back, but he didn't allow it.

 

"Like Mance said, things are not what they were back then."

 

She gathered the courage to look at him. "I'm glad to hear that."

 

 _Maybe,_ she thought, _we can manage to understand each other._ The rest would come alone.

 

 

 

JON

 

"Haven't you had enough already?" Jon could not remember blushing that hard ever since he was traveling beyond the Wall; he knew his face was bright red at that moment.

 

"I-" Cyara panted to catch her breath, swallowing whatever she was trying to say, giving way to another round of laughter.

 

Jon sighed. "Was it that funny? I made a mistake."

 

He had said **they should fuck in the Glass Gardens** instead of **focus on the Glass Gardens.**

 

Cyara breathed deeply again. "It was not that funny, not like the face you made right after," she said still gasping.

 

"Good to know I can make you laugh, even if it is at my expense."

 

"You'll get your chance to laugh at me." She patted him on the head and directed to the entrance of their chamber. "I believe we had _something_ to do at the Glass Gardens."

 

"You won't let me forget it."

 

"Not as long as it makes me laugh." When she smiled at him, he decided it wasn't that bad.

 

They exited the Great Keep and crossed the yard to the entrance of what once was the Glass Gardens. They found themselves stepping upon a mixture of mud, snow, ashes, and broken glass.

 

"We have to clean the place first."

 

"The servants will do that while Sam prepares the designs."

 

She nodded. "So, what are we planning to grow here?"

 

"Well, whatever the castle needs, fruits, vegetables, turdes, herbs, flowers."

 

"Flowers? It would be a waste of space, don't you think?"

 

"My father used to cut flowers for Lyanna." It was only half of the reason, but if he had told her he had thought of giving her a flower, she would have smacked him in the head.

 

"I see," she ran her hand through her hair, indicating she worried her words had been harsh on him, "I think we can't spare some space for winter roses."

 

They took measures of the place and looked for anything salvageable from the rubble without much success. They wouldn't be able to supervise the construction, though; they were supposed to be at the Wall by then.

 

"I couldn't understand how anything could grow in this place, but it is indeed warmer here."

 

"It is not that surprising." Jon rose from the place where he had been kneeling. "Brandon the Builder was smart; he made good use of the hot springs."

 

"It is too warm for my liking."

 

"You will get used to it." He hoped she would get used to it.

 

"I don't think so," she said folding the parchment with the measurements.

 

"I bet you will miss the warmth once we make it to the Wall."

 

"If it comes to that, I'll seek warmth somewhere else," she replied before kissing him.

 

Jon stroked her face. "I like that idea."

 

"Jon!" Arya's shout startled them both.

 

Cyara pushed him away strongly enough to make him tumble. She was discreet in everything she did, and their intimacy was not the exception. Even if they had not done much more than kissing, she didn't want anyone witnessing their interactions. For Jon, having made love to Ygritte surrounded by members of the Free Folk, Cyara's behavior was amusing.

 

"I'm not going to ask." Arya regarded them with knowing expression when she found them. "Rickon says you promised him to watch him today."

 

Jon grinned, Rickon had become more open after he and Arya started to communicate with him in the Old Tongue. Of course, his little sister had learned quicker than him.

 

"I'll go after talking to Sam."

 

"Go with them," Cyara prompted him. "I can settle things with Sam alone."

 

"Thanks."

 

Arya didn't speak on their way to the courtyard, but Jon could see in her half-repressed smile she wanted to say something.

 

"If you want to comment something, do it already, little sister."

 

Arya ran ahead, to face him as she walked backward; she wasn't repressing her smile anymore. "Are you sure?"

 

"As if you needed my permission to make fun of me."

 

Arya stopped suddenly; he had to do the same. "I'm not making fun of you, stupid." She took his arm before resuming their walking. "I'm glad you solved your issues with Cyara?"

 

"You are not the only one." Things were easier that way. "But _others_ are not pleased with it." He had caught a glimpse of Wynafryd Manderly watching them from the bridge that connected the First Keep and the Armory.

 

"The Lords are more concerned about your plans to work with Mance Rayder than your marriage." Arya shared with a shrug. "But if you want to stop them chasing you, there is one way."

 

"Like hiring a Faceless Assassin?" He whispered, making Arya laugh.

 

"You can't afford my services."

 

"That is a shame."

 

Arya didn't pressure him further.

 

He perfectly knew what Arya was referring to, but it was pretty impossible right then. They had just reckoned their feelings, were still dealing with their misunderstandings and trying to prepare for the attack on the Wall. He wanted her, and she had shown him she wanted him too, but having a child was a different matter.

 

 _Have we even decided to stay together?_ He didn't know what he would do once Rickon could manage Winterfell alone or if Cyara wanted to go somewhere else.

 

 **"You are late, Jon,"** Rickon reprimanded him.

 

 **"I'm sorry."** Jon greeted Harwin with a nod; he had appointed him as Winterfell's master at arms. "I was working to rebuild the Glass Gardens."

 

**"Can I cut a rose for mother?"**

 

It was terrible to deny him anything, yet he could not lie. "It will take some time to grow flowers there, Rickon."

 

His brother's expression changed to a pout until Arya intervened. **"We could ride outside to look for wildflowers."**

 

With a smile, Rickon commanded them to take a seat before picking up his training sword. He did better with Harwin than with Arya's Water Dancing.

 

As he observed Rickon laughing, swinging his sword to attack Harwin, he felt something blooming in his chest. For the first time since they returned, Jon felt that they could learn to live there again, to recover from their wounds. He dared to imagine Rickon's children sparring in the yard with Arya's, or Sansa's, or _his_. It was also the first time he had seriously harbored aspirations of starting a family.

 

It was not right, but that was all he could think about the rest of the day. Even as he heard the Lord's protests during their reunion or bore Stannis' look after he told him he wanted Davos Seaworth to ship supplies from White Harbor to Eastwatch by the Sea.

 

 _I'm behaving like a fool._ He decided on his way back to their chambers. _I have not even asked her what she wants._

 

Cyara was reading a letter with a pensive expression, her bare feet tapping on the floor a few times before throwing the parchment to the fire.

 

Jon didn't like the scene.

 

"What was that?"

 

It was clear his presence had surprised her.

 

"A letter from Connington."

 

"What was it about?"

 

 _Why do you receive letters from Connington?_ He would have liked to ask instead.

 

She looked pretty uncomfortable. "He wants to know when I'm going to produce an heir for Winterfell."

 

_I guess Winterfell is not far enough from Connington._

 

"Ignore him."

 

"It would be imprudent of us," Cyara stated. "We could," she added swiftly; his face might have given away some disappointment. "I mean once we return."

 

That was the only answer he needed from her at that moment. He pulled her for a long kiss.

 

"Are you planning to finish what you started the other day?" She discarded her reserve as soon as they were alone.

 

Jon shook his head, almost ashamed; his curiosity had gotten in the way the other night.

 

"I thought it was not the right time."

 

"Those are two different matters." She paused and scowled. "Is there a reason not to?"

 

He had indeed considered all the reasons he had to avoid sleeping with Cyara. However, unlike the time he was avoiding Ygritte, he found none. His brothers had cut his ties with the Night's Watch; he didn't carry a bastard name anymore; Cyara was his wife, and she _wanted_ him.

 

Being with Cyara was not a matter of life or death.

 

"Are you not going to repent of doing this?" That question might have been more for him than her.

 

Cyara didn't answer with words. She moved her hands to the clasp of his cloak to discard the item and did the same with his sword belt. After placing Longclaw on the table, she focused on the laces of his tunic. Jon found her movements precise and efficient, but gentle; she lacked all the impatience Ygritte had.

 

 _I have to stop making comparisons._ It was unfair for Cyara.

 

Jon took her hand and guided her to the bedchamber. Cyara kept her eyes on his all the while as they undressed each other. Her stare was enough to make his breath heavier. When he removed the last piece of clothing, she cupped his face and pulled him to bed.

 

They kissed and exchanged caresses. Jon tried to return her gentle treatment all the while; tenderness was not something he was used to. He repeated anything that extracted a moan from her or made her breath heavier.

 

"Jon," she whispered.

 

Jon parted her thighs as gently as he could. He was aching to be inside of her but hesitated one last time to ask for her approval. One look at her eyes was enough.

 

 _Just do it already,_ her eyes, darkened because of the arousal seemed to tell.

 

He heard her gasp when he entered her, trying to maintain his thrusts as slow as possible. But it had been so long since the last time, that he soon increased his speed, unable to stand it anymore. He finished with her name on his lips as she clung to him.

 

Cyara brushed his sweaty hair away from his forehead and smiled at him in a way that made his heart ache. Jon gave her a light kiss before rolling onto his side and dragging the furs to cover them.

 

He rubbed her back. "I'll make it better for you next time."

 

It had not been as he would have wanted, but he could not remember feeling warmer before.

 

She reached to card her fingers through his hair. "You worry about stupid things, Snow." She blinked at him as if suddenly remembering something. "Does it bother you that I keep calling you _Snow_?"

 

"No." He knew Cyara didn't use his name in a pejorative sense.

 

Cyara felt asleep shortly after. The more he stared at her, the more he convinced himself that it wasn't wrong. Things were right that way.

 

* * *

 

 

He was watching how Rickon taught Aemon to make snowballs in the godswood. It was an encouraging picture; if the son of Ned Stark and the son of the King beyond the Wall could get along, then the Lords and the Free Folk had a chance to understand each other.

 

"Rickon, it is time for your lessons with Sam."

 

**"I'm playing with Aemon."**

 

"Aemon has to see his father, right Gilly?"

 

Gilly nodded and offered her hand to the younger boy. "We must see Mance."

 

"Mance," Aemon repeated while taking her hand.

 

 **"Don't want to."** Rickon insisted even after Aemon had left.

 

**"You promised, Rickon."**

 

His brother shook his head stubbornly.

 

**"Would you go if I accompany you?"**

 

Rickon thought for a moment, before nodding.

 

**"Go ahead. I'll catch up with you."**

 

Rickon sprinted out of the godswood with Shaggy behind him. Jon delayed retrieving _Longclaw_ from the place where he had left it, near the Heart tree. There was someone there; it was Theon. Jon did his best to control himself.

 

"You are supposed to stay with Stannis."

 

Theon didn't answer.

 

"If the northerners see you, they might kill you." The only reason he had not sentenced Theon was that he could be useful for Aegon.

 

There was still no answer.

 

 _Whatever._ He still had Asha Greyjoy.

 

Jon turned to the exit.

 

"Are you enjoying it?"

 

_What?_

 

Jon sighed. "Return to the Guest House, Theon." His pity towards Theon always overpowered his hate; what Ramsay had done to him was more than enough punishment for what he had done.

 

" _This_ life doesn't belong to you." Theon finally uttered.

 

Jon chilled during an indeterminable amount of time; when he gathered the courage to face Theon, he had vanished. Jon didn't know whether he had truly been there.

 

He felt his legs failing him and sat under the Heart tree.

 

_I didn't ask for this._

 

"I'm doing what Robb wanted," he muttered to the pond.

 

The leaves of the Heart tree rustled because of the wind. Jon distinguished but one word: _Oathbreaker._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might have focused too much on Jon/Cyara relationship, but there were certain things I needed to include before the march to the Wall. 
> 
> On another note, I have decided I can't keep dealing with both stories at the same time, thus, since Promise Me is closer to the end, I'll focus on it. And I will use that time to correct (more likely rewrite) the first chapters of this story. I won't change the plot, but I'm no longer satisfied with the way I wrote those first steps.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please comment.
> 
> Next chapter: "THE GREATER GOOD"


	31. A final note

I don't know how to start this...

I know this story is pretty much abandoned, and although it doesn't have as many readers as my other work, it bothers me not having been able to update since last year.  
I keep writing notes and planning for this story, but as time passes, it becomes more and more difficult to find time to write a proper chapter and update. As I kept thinking, I realised two things:

  
1\. This story was a work too ambitious for someone who, as was my case when I started the Dragon in the Wall, had no experience writing fanfiction.  
2\. I'm definitely no longer satisfied with the way I did things.

**Therefore, I will reset this story.**

I won't delete what I've already posted because, despite its several fails, I have affection for my first work and I don't want to loose the marvellous comments that helped me to improve greatly.  
I thank those who have read and waited for this, and if you feel like it, I'd feel most honoured if you decided to restart this journey with me.  
I plan to post the first chapter at the same time as my update for my other work.

**Once again, thanks for everything.**

**Author's Note:**

> Brienne/Jaime shippers, you'll have to wait a little... maybe a lot, but it will happen eventually.
> 
> Comments and constructive critic are well received, but please don't insult me if you don't like it that much.


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